Escaping Hell & War
by Ginger-Bizkit
Summary: A modern day Good Night Mr Tom! About a girl named Amy living in London when World War III breaks out, and has to leave. Where will she end up? Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Good Night Mr Tom characters or their stories. CHAPTER TEN UP: 19.06.07
1. Last Farewell

_KK, so this is a modern day version of Goodnight Mr Liam. It's roughly based on the story, but I hope you like it none the less. Disclaimer: I do not own any of the GNMT characters or their stories. _

**Last Farewell**

It was a beautiful day in the city. London was filled with the carefree hustle and bustle of everyday life: cars weaved their way about the city; tourists snapped up the sights of the English capital with their latest cameras; and groups of chattering people walked the streets and park, enjoying the lovely day.

_Yes, lovely_, Amy thought bitterly, as she stared out of the window gloomily as the car waited in a long line of traffic. _Why won't these cars just disappear?_

Amy Wilson was fifteen-years-old, and tall for her age. Her dark brown eyes were dark enough to be mistaken for black, and her fine blonde hair whirled around her shoulders like a golden waterfall. Or at least, that was what her mother had said. Her mother was not in the car with her and brother now, but in the one just in front. She was in the hearse. Inside the coffin.

A hand touched her shoulder, comforting and reassuring in this time of sadness. Amy looked up, her eyes grateful. Besides her sat a boy, his scruffy hair unusually neat, and his tight hoody and skinny fits replaced by a crisp black suit and tie. His dark brown eyes glimmered shamelessly.

"Hey, Amy," he mumbled, forcing a smile. "Cheer up, right. I mean, it's not like _we're _dead, is it?"

Besides him, Andrew Barrings, Amy's stepfather stiffened in his seat. "That is uncalled for, Liam."

Amy's two year older brother, Liam Wilson, glared at his stepfather with vicious eyes. It was hardly a secret any more that Liam and Andrew hated one another with a vengeance. The main reason that Liam _hated _Andrew was because he blamed the man for ruining his life – though that was probably not his fault. Andrew had thrown Liam from his house after the boy's three years of drug abuse, until the man finally snapped. Liam now lived at a boarding school run by one of Andrew's brothers, and the siblings barely ever saw one another.

"Sorry, _sir_," Liam replied sarcastically. "I didn't realise it was an offence to talk to my sister."

"I shan't have you talking ill of the dead," Andrew growled, "especially not of your mother. She deserves better than that."

Liam's eyes darkened. "Yeh. Like she got that from _you_."

"Leave it," Amy whispered, afraid of another of the twos' famous fights to break out. "Liam, just calm down. Please?"

There was a icy silence for a moment. Finally, after Liam had finished glaring at the man next to him, he turned to face the front of the car heading the funeral procession behind the hearse. "Fine."

The crematorium was large, the drive up to the building ornate and picturesque amongst the beautiful headstones and rainbow flowers. It made Amy feel nervous, uncomfortable. She reached out, grabbing her brother's hand for support, barely able to feel surprised when he gripped her hand back, just as tightly. When the cars finally stopped and the mourners got out of the cars, Amy and Liam still held hands. Secretly, Amy was afraid to let go.

"It's boiling," Liam remarked, as they lined up outside of the crematorium with the eight other mourners. None of them were family, just some of Mum's business associates. "You must be roasting in that, Amy. C'mon, you can sacrifice that blazer, can't you?"

Amy felt her gut tighten suddenly. She was only wearing her t-shirt underneath the blazer! She shook her head quickly, mumbling, "Nah, I'm fine. Honestly, Liam."

Liam gave her a sideways glance. "Why? What's happened?"

"Nothing," Amy hissed back. "Liam--"

"You're hiding something from me."

"I'm not!"

"Amy, just--"

Andrew hushed them quickly as a man in a crisp suit called for the mourners to enter the crematorium in single file and in silence. Amy refused to let go of Liam's arm, burying her face into his shoulder as they walked past the man, just as she had use to do when they'd been children. If she couldn't see him, he couldn't see her! If she couldn't see him, he couldn't see her! If she couldn't see him, he couldn't see her!

The man glanced at the brother and sister, frowned slightly as he met Liam's cool gaze, then ushered them on inside.

---

As the mourners left the crematorium, Amy battled back tears. Andrew took the condolences for the family, nodding gravely at Mum's associates as they made to leave. Liam grunted off a woman's sympathetic apology, pulling out a packet of cigarettes from his trouser pockets. He saw Amy watching apprehensively and waved on in her direction. She shook her head, smiled, and Liam light up his own with a shrug.

"Damn, I hate this place," the boy muttered angrily, exhaling. "Too quiet by far! Got a boyfriend yet, Amy?"

"No," Amy asked, slightly annoyed by her brother's question. "Why do you want to know?"

Liam grunted. "Why not? I hardly ever see you, and you never speak to me about those types of things over the Internet."

"That's because it's _personal_."

"Yeh, and I'm your brother. I'm protective of you, squirt. Not like our dear parents are falling over themselves to do that, are they."

Amy shrugged, feeling guilty. "Maybe Andrew's right, Liam. Maybe we shouldn't be talking ill of Mum." Liam's face hardened. "It's not her fault you were kicked out, you know?"

"I know, I know," Liam confessed, tapping the ash from his cigarette. "Still, she let that stupid gimp into our lives. I'll never forgive her for that." He was silent for a moment, then said quietly, "You heard about the Prime Minister?"

Amy rolled her eyes. "What did he do this time?"

"Angered... Oh, guess! Go on, Amy, guess which country! God, are we going to get our sorry asses kicked if _this_ one back fires! No? Fine then, it's--"

"Put that out this _instance!_" Andrew snarled, appearing before them. Amy and Liam jumped, surprised, and Andrew's face became livid with anger. "Liam Wilson, put that out right now!"

"Jeezum, man, cool it!" Liam growled, dropped the cigarette to the ground and squashing it beneath his toe. "There? Happy now?"

Andrew's left eyebrow began to twitch of anger, the first signs of rage appearing on his face. He tried to look cool, composed, but it was obviously a strain on the man.

"No, Liam, I am _far _from happy at this moment in time. You know what your mother felt about smoking – what would she have said if she saw you now?"

Liam clenched his fists, muttering under his breath. Amy barely caught his words. "Probably whatever you wanted her to."

"What was that!" demanded Andrew, furious. Liam merely smiled in response, though the smile wavered as Andrew stepped up to him. Though he only came up to Liam's nose, the man was still an impressively daunting sight. "Smoking is a filthy habit, Liam, do you not know that? Probably another one of those little _joys_ you picked up from your 'well hard' friends, isn't it?" He rounded on Amy. "Did you smoke one?"

"No," Amy said instantly. There was doubt in her stepfather's eyes. "Andrew, I swear I didn't."

"I can back that," Liam added, making Andrew look at him once more. "Amy wouldn't. Asthma, you see?" Liam coughed feebly into his hand, then smiled again. "Don't want her to damage her lungs."

"Don't be funny with me, mister!" threatened Andrew. "I have had to deal with you for two days, and now I have had enough! As soon as we get home, you're to pack your belongings and leave, do you hear?"

Liam glared at him, looking absolutely mad with anger. "I hear you. But you know what, mate?" Liam swore angrily, turned and stormed off.

Amy yelled at him to come back, wanting to run after him, but Andrew seized her by the arm. The girl winced, biting back a yelp of pain, and only _just _manage to keep it at bay. "Let him go," Andrew ordered quietly. "He knows what he's doing."

_Please, Liam_, Amy thought desperately. _Please come back! Liam! Don't leave me alone._ But her brother didn't hear her silent pleas. The last thing Amy saw of Liam that fine day was him shrugged his blazer over his shoulders as he stalked away through the sea of flowers and stone.

---

Amy didn't feel particularly hungry that evening. She toyed with the mash on her plate with the fork, staring dully forwards towards the TV, but there was nothing on. The soaps that usually cheered her up made her feel even more depressed, and the reality shows made her feel even worse. Ten people stuck in a house? Try being stuck in her life!

There was movement behind her at the door, making Amy freeze. "Why aren't you eating your meal?" a cold voice asked her.

"I'm...not hungry," Amy replied. Andrew walked into the room, wiping his hand across his mouth as he stared towards the TV. "What's this crap?"

"It's just a kiddies' programme," the girl answered, "that's all. Do you want to watch the news? There's a documentary on something or other here if you want--"

"Did you smoke?" Andrew's eyes were bleary with drink from the bottle in his hand. Amy stiffened. Was he _still _on about that? No, of course he would be. "Amy. Did you smoke?"

"No." The girl felt her chest tighten with fear as Andrew took the remote from the arm of the sofa and switched off the TV. Placing the bottle of vodka on top of the box, the man turned to face her. "Andrew, I swear I didn't."

"God doesn't like liars, Amy Wilson," Andrew hissed, beginning to undo his belt. "Liars and self killers go to hell. Your mother was a liar, just like you. Both of you will get what you deserve."

_Mum wasn't a liar! _Amy wanted to scream at him. _You're the liar! You drove her to it! She wanted to get away from you! _

_And she left me to face the consequences on my own_.

Andrew had removed his belt now and was staring at her with a placid look on his face. The belt swung lazily in his hand, like a snake in slumber. She knew what would come next. Suddenly, Andrew dived for her, seizing the girl by the arm and hoisting her to her feet, the plate of food falling to the ground and smashing. His tight grip on her arm awoke the bruises from the week before, and this time Amy couldn't help but yelping with the pain. Andrew snarled in response.

"You have to learn," he muttered. "Beat the sin out of you in life before it can be punished in death. I'm doing you a favour, girl. Do you want the devil to burn you? Like he's burning your mother? I couldn't save her in the end, but I _will _save you."

"I haven't done anything!" Amy screamed at him, as he forced her to the floor, holding her still while he lifted his arm. "Please! I didn't do any--" Her words were cut short as Andrew brought the belt swinging down.

When he had finished, Amy lay on the floor sobbing. She nursed the lashes on her arms again, feeling others even stronger on her back, wishing that she could die. Andrew glanced at the mess on the floor and shook his head angrily.

"Stupid girl," he growled, then lashed the floor near to Amy, making her wince. "Clean that mess up, Amy, and go to bed. Now!"

She didn't have the strength or the courage to say no.

---

_KK, so a little violent to begin with, but hopefully that was ok. Please tell me what you thought of it! Llamas, Ginger-Bizkit! _


	2. The Threat Of Tomorrow

_Disclaimer: I do not own any of the GNMT characters or their stories. All characters in this fanfict are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons or events is purely coincidental! _

**The Threat Of Tomorrow**

The English Prime Minister, Garry Michaels, stood before the microphone at 10 Downing Street , his face drawn and pale. He looked sick, many noted, as they sat before their TV screens and looked attentively at the Emergency Broadcast that had interrupted all stations out of the blue. Something had obviously happened. The man coughed and took a quick drink of water from the glass in arms reach of him, then looked dead at the camera.

"People of Britain, I am afraid to tell you that discussions between us and them have deteriorated. The EU's attempts to reach them and discus the arms threat has failed, and a note arrived today announcing the final decision. It shames me to have to tell you that we are going to war once more. The Allies shall untie again, stronger and smarter than ever before. America and Germany have promised to join us in due course. As Sir Winston Churchill once said: 'We shall fight in the fields and in the streets. We shall fight in the hills. We shall never surrender!' And the Allies shall not lose, not while we have our courage, strength, and--"

"Unoriginal fool," Andrew muttered, turning the TV off without a moment's hesitation. Lingering by her bedroom door, Amy bit back a complaint – if Andrew didn't want to watch the Prime Minister's speech then _she _didn't need to watch it either. She'd learnt that long ago. "Now, where is my briefcase? Amy! Have you seen... Oh nope, here it is!"

"So...does this mean England's going to war?" Amy asked apprehensively, watching as her stepfather dug his briefcase out from underneath a mountain of papers on his desk.

"Yes," Andrew sighed irritably, rushing around the flat like a madman. "United Europe and America... You name it, honey, everyone will get dragged into this war." He looked up at her and smiled sadly. "We've been born into the Third World War, Amy. You'd better get used to that fact."

Amy felt her knees go weak. Another World War! But...that wasn't possible, was it? Surely everything was all right? She immediately thought of Liam, worrying about him suddenly. She didn't want her brother to be hurt!

"London'll probably be bombed," Andrew commented, like he was discussing nothing more interesting than the weather. "Government's already decided to put up evacuation rubbish out – it was in the papers this morning. That'll mean I'll be home alone for a while."

"You mean I'm going to have to leave London?" Amy gasped, as Andrew headed for the door. He stopped besides her, then kissed her on the forehead. "You mean I'm going to have to leave like all those World War Two kids?"

"I'm afraid so, Amy." Andrew hesitated, then said quietly. "I'm...I'm sorry about hitting you last week. Maybe the belt was a little too strong a punishment for you - I just don't want to see you in trouble; not my little girl. Sorry?"

Amy took a deep breath, wanting to tell him where to put his apology. Instead she smiled weakly, nodding. "It's all right. I'm sorry I got you in a bad mood." God, she sounded like her mother!

But Andrew looked pleased by her words. "Good. We'll you've got to get a move on, Amy, or else you'll miss the school bus." He glanced at his wrist watch and cursed fluently. "If I don't move it I'll miss my train! See you later, love!"

_Bastard!_ Amy thought, watching her stepfather leave the house, then turned back into her bedroom. Posters of her favourite bands covered the walls, and her cuddly toys lay in a pile besides her bed. Glancing in her mirror, Amy ran her fingers once more through her curly hair, then grabbed her eye-liner once more. _Just a little more won't hurt_, she told herself, drowning her eyes in black. The half-dead look was still in, and her skinny fits lay drying on the radiator. School uniform did not permit or like the Emo style.

As Amy locked the flat door behind her, she heard the sound of the school bus beeping outside. She ran down the stairwell, jumping the last three steps as she hurried out into the lobby, waving cheerfully at a neighbour as he passed her in the other direction.

"Morning, Amy," he called, balancing bags of shopping. "Heard the terrible news?"

Amy nodded, then hurried on out into the street. But as she passed the door she nearly knocked over a man with a pot of glue and a paint brush. He glared at her, cursing, refusing to hear her gabbled apologies. He moved away, carrying a pile of papers under his arm, and Amy turned to look at the sign he'd just put up outside the block of flats where she lived, besides the sign that read, _Malling Heights._ What the girl saw made her blood run cold.

**GOVERNMENT**

**EVACUATION SCHEME**

**The Government have ordered evacuation of registered school children. If your children are registered, visit their assembly point at once and read the instructions on the notice board. Posters notifying arrival will be displayed at the schools at which the children assemble for evacuation. Ages 4 to 18 must contact immediately. Evacuation will save your children from any bombings that may occur in the cities during the time of war. **

**FURTHER INFORMATION WILL BE PROVIDED IN DUE COURSE.**

"Amy!" The shout from her bus driver shook Amy out of her shocked state. "Hurry up, girl, or we'll get smelled up in the traffic!"

_This can't be happening!_ Amy thought desperately. _This is so stupid! _But life still went on, school awaited her, and Amy turned and quickly leapt onto the waiting school bus.

---

**Three Weeks Later...**

**There are two members in the chatroom: ****Liam/****Amy**

**Liam: **Nah we haven't got those posters up here – this dump's stuck out in the middle of nowhere! No one would want to bomb this place cos there's nothing here. Just this crappy school.

**Amy: **But I'm talking about London, Liam! I'm going to be evacuated! The headmistress gave us an Emergency assembly about it yesterday, and we've been told that we've got to be out of London by the 14th!

**Liam: **Know where you're off to yet? Oh, go on, you know you want to tell me!

**Amy: **Andrew's got the letter at the moment. I haven't seen it yet.

**Liam: **Typical gimp! God, there is _nothing _to do out here! Did you hear what that gimp did?

**Amy: **No, what happened?

**Liam: **Andrew called up his brother – you know, that old fossil that runs this _PRISON!_ Well, he rang up and said I was back on cigarettes, AND I'VE BEEN BANED FROM GOING INTO THE VILLAGE! Mr Barrings says I'm to cool off for a month, and I had to take confession.

**Amy: **It isn't that bad. A month can't be that long.

**Liam: **It is! Anyhow, when are you off? Have you got your ticket yet?

**Amy: '**I don't know' to the first question, and 'no' to the latter.

**Liam: **Man, that stinks! Everything stinks! Even my ROOM stinks! Oh no wait, that's me! ; )

**Amy: **Ew! I didn't need to know that! Where did you go after Mum's funeral?

**Liam: **To a friend's house. He lived near by, so I popped in there. It's no biggy, Amy. Please change subject.

**Amy: **Have you heard from Dad lately?

**Liam: **Change subject.

**Amy: **Fine! I wish I could be evacuated out with you. Barrings Estate sounds better than here!

**Liam: **You don't want to be, seriously! It's a dump! And they try to force religion on you like it's going out of fashion or something! Mr Barrings is almost as bad as Andrew is, and Andrew is an evil fanatic!

**Amy: **At least Mr Barrings doesn't hit you.

**Liam: **I suppose not. He just bans us from TV and radio, going into town – that kind of stuff. Has Andrew started hitting you again?

**Amy: **Yes. I thought he'd calmed down after you left, but after Mum died he just lost it again. He says she went to hell, and that I'm going to follow her unless he doesn't stop me.

**Liam: **He's a screwball! Look, I've gotta go now, Amy – confession AGAIN! Talk to you soon, right? If it gets too bad, just run. I wish I had.

**Liam has signed off.**

**Amy: **I wish I could.

**Amy has signed off.**

---

_Oooh! Please tell me what you thought of it! REVIEW! Flames are more than welcome! Llamas, Ginger-Bizkit!_


	3. A Message From An Old Friend

_I have reviewers! Thank you! I hope you guys like this new chapter ;) _

**A Message From An Old Friend**

Thursday was always Games at school. Year Ten were not always allowed to go swimming, so today was a very special treat. Amy loved sports, always had and always would, but today she sat up at the leisure centre's café, watching enviously as her friends swam in the swimming pool below. Amy had told her sport teacher shyly that she was on her period, but truthfully she'd been beaten again. Andrew had found her reading the book she'd been told to read for English instead of her Bible at six-thirty the previous evening. Six o'clock to eight was always Bible time, Andrew said, and _Good Night Mr Tom _had nothing whatsoever to do with the power of God. Amy begged to differ, for she had found a few parallels with her life and that of the main character in the book.

_Good Night Mr Tom_ was about a little London boy called Willie Beech, who had to be evacuated out of London to a place called Little Weirwold during the Second World War, to stay with a guy named Tom. Hence the 'Mr Tom' bit, she guessed. Willie was also beaten by his mother, who also happened to be a crazy Fundamentalist! Amy had spoken to Liam about the book on the chat room and had been told that Mrs Beech was just Andrew in a skirt, and why had she not read that book already? She was fifteen, wasn't she? Even Liam had read that book before he was in Year Ten!

Amy sighed, rubbing her eyes. With the book read, she just had the stupid course work to finish on it. The whole book was actually a biography, her teacher had told the class, about the war time experiences of the famous actor Will Oakley, before he was adopted. He'd been a legend after the war, staring in many new films and countless stage productions, though many people still presumed the book and the man to be linked by coincidence only.

The door to the leisure centre café opened and the sports teacher strolled in, dressed in a loose tracksuit, her hair wet from swimming. The woman ordered a coffee and a tea, then seated herself at the table next to her lonely pupil, and smiled as she pushed the tea towards Amy.

"Are looking forwards to the evacuation, Amy?" she asked lightly, as Amy graciously excepted the tea. "I have to hand out letters at the end of this lesson about what you need to take with you."

"I'm not sure if I want to go," Amy confessed, pouring milk into the cup absently. "I mean, its so worrying knowing that you are safe, yet people you know and love are stuck here..." Amy paused, suddenly alerted to something: she would be evacuated to some place in the country, and her stepfather wouldn't be there! She could escape!

"It will be fine, Amy, I'm sure," the sports teacher remarked kindly. "Everyone wants you children to be safe, and I'm pretty sure that this shan't last for much longer." Amy gave her a funny look, and the woman sighed sadly. "Yes, I know: famous last words. But I'm sure this war will be over sooner rather than later. I hope it is."

"I'll miss everything here," Amy said quietly, then thought, _Well, except him. _

The teacher nodded. "I know, Amy. I hope everything goes all right for you."

Amy jumped off the bus and hurried into _Malling Heights. _She glanced at her watch again and cringed: it was six o'clock already! Amy hurtled up the stairs as fast as she could, diving up the stairs and taking them two at a time. Andrew was going to be furious with her!

"Where have you been?" the man growled as soon as Amy opened the front door to the apartment. He was standing in the hall, arms crossed across his chest as he waited for the girl to arrive back. There was a glint of anger in his eyes, making Amy's heart tighten. "Amy Wilson, I demand to know where you've been."

"I'm sorry, Andrew," Amy mumbled quietly, hanging her head and toying nervously with the strap of her school bag. "My friends were going out to a café for a farewell drink. I...I went with them. I'm sorry. I didn't plan to be so long."

Andrew snorted in response. "Friends? When did _you _acquire friends? There's no one that would associate themselves with you, not when you walk the path you do. Sinner. You were with a boy, weren't you?"

Amy's eyes opened wide with horror. A boy? _Her? _That was impossible, she knew, for Andrew was always telling her that no boy would give her a second look. She wasn't good enough. She wasn't pretty enough. No one wanted to be seen with a girl whose mother had...

"I wasn't with a boy," Amy whispered. "I promise. I swear! I was with my friends, Andrew. I'm sorry. I should have called."

Andrew suddenly clenched his fists, fury in his eyes, not believing the truth. "DON'T YOU DARE LIE TO ME, GIRL! YOU WERE WITH A--"

The phone began to ring. Andrew gave her a warning look and pointed to her room. Hanging her head in disgrace, Amy hurried off as quickly as she could and silently dumped her bag on the floor, and retrieved her suitcase out from the cupboard. As she checked over the list of items that the sports teacher had given the whole class after swimming, Amy blocked out the furious conversation going on out in the hall. She refused to listen – something was wrong, she could tell.

When Andrew finally came into her room, Amy had packed her bag, unpacked it again to check she really _had _remembered everything, then repacked it again. He looked angrier than when he had accused her of being in the company of a young man, and he shook his head with a pained expression on his face.

"That was Barring Estate," Andrew growled, and Amy looked up at the mention of her brother's school. "It's Liam. That little blighter tried to run away---"

"What!"

"Wait, Amy," Andrew growled, as Amy made to run for her mobile. "The police caught him this morning. He's back in the care of my brother." The man's eyes grew cold. "He shall be punished for this."

"Is he all right?" Amy pleaded.

"Yes. He's being charged for assaulting an officer – he punched one of the kind officers taking him back to Barring Estate." Andrew took her hands gently in his own. "Do you not see why its so important for me to try and protect you, my dear? You are like a daughter to me, and I would hate to see you fall into sin as much as your brother has. I fear there is no hope for him, but there is for you. And I shall help you." He ruffled her fondly, then made for the door. "Oh, and I've asked for you to stay with religious people while you're evacuated, so that they can continue my work. Good night, Amy."

Amy smiled slightly, then nodded back. When Andrew had gone, she brushed her hair and wiped her hands with a cleansing wipe. She was just packing her handbag with the essentials she would need for tomorrow's journey, when her phone suddenly bleeped. Amy picked it up and frowned as she saw that she did not recognise the number, but curiosity got the better of her initial fear. Andrew did not believe in speaking to those you did not know, but Amy was intrigued. She was going to be starting a new life, why shouldn't she be more adventurous.

The text was formal, not written in the normal code most teenagers used. Most adults preferred to text more like they were writing a letter. This was no exception, and Amy read with interest:

_Unknown to Amy Mob: Amy its me. Ive just heard about your mother and I cant tell you how sorry I am. Aunty Julie gave me your number and if you want to call me and talk you now have my number to do so. I leave the decision to you. I'm sorry. Jake_

Amy sat there for a moment, staring at the text message before her with a mixture of excitement and horror. She read it again and again, then bit her lip. Amy sat silently for a moment, staring at the name at the end of the text. Amy hadn't heard a word from her mother's sister since the woman had married Andrew, and this was the first time the girl had thought of the woman in many years. But her aunt hadn't liked Jake Wilson either, and dislike had immediately turned to loathing after the man had walked out on the family for another woman. Amy worried the bottom of her lip nervously, suddenly feeling very uneasy.

Why on earth had Aunt Julie given Amy's much hated father her number? What if Andrew found out? More importantly, what would her brother say if he ever found out?

Amy clicked onto the menu with forceful determination, then paused. Her finger hovered over the button that would delete the message forever, and then she would never have to think of the man again. But was that what she wanted? No, Amy _had _to delete the message! She sighed sadly, then exited the menu, leaving the message safely stored away in her phone for later consideration and confusion.

Tomorrow was the day she would leave London, her home, her school, her friends. More importantly, Amy would leave Andrew far behind her. Nothing could dampen the amazing feeling of hope that she got from the one thought! She could be free!

_That's it for now. It's getting to the point soon enough! Oooooh, where's she going? Llamas, the Ginger-Bizkit!_


	4. Farewells & New Faces

_I have reviewers! Thank you! I hope you guys like this new chapter ;) _

**Farewells & New Faces**

Amy looked wistfully towards the hoard of weeping, blubbering mothers, aunties and grandmas, brave-faced fathers and gloomy grandfathers. Around them huddled a group of half excited, half blubbering children, but Amy was not amongst them. She stared towards the children and their parents, but there was no one there for Amy. _I like it that way_, Amy thought, seating herself on the floor in the assembly hall. Her mouth turned dry as she watched a friend's mother kiss the girl roughly on the cheek and rushed from the school. Amy tried not to think of her own mother, and turned her head down so that she could study the laces of her trainers.

"Are you here on your own today, Amy?" asked her headmaster, appearing beside her through the clusters of children. "Where's your stepfather?"

"Andrew's working," the girl answered quietly, tucking a strand of her fine blonde hair out of her eyes. "But he gave me a letter about my evacuation but I don't know who to give it to."

"Let me see." Amy watched in silence as her headmaster opened the envelope, watching the man's mouth tighten as he read the letter in his hands. "Your stepfather wants you to stay with "God-fearing people", or else he wants you to...return home immediately?"

"Says I'm not allowed to go if his wishes aren't complied with." Amy looked towards her lonely suitcase and silently prayed that she wouldn't have to return home. The headmaster saw the worry on her face and sighed inwardly, knowing all too well the rumours of the abuse in Amy's home. He'd seen the bruises on the girl's arms and legs, and he did not wish to send the child back to such a place.

"I'll see what I can do, Amy," he said gently. "I'll do my best. Now, can I get you a cup of tea?"

* * *

The station had been a see of faces, both old and new; smiling and weeping. Shouting, waving children piled up at the windows, calling out farewells to the watchers on the platforms. Amy watched a group of young boys screaming out the top of the train window in her compartment as the train glided out of the station, balancing uneasily on the chairs and side tables. There was no one for Amy to shout to, no one for her to wave at. She sat in her chair and pulled out her iPod, hoping to lose herself in her music. Her favourite song lulled her into a calm, relaxed mood.

Soon, London was far behind them. With every station they passed, Amy felt as though a bud of hope was growing in her chest, growing faster than the moving train. Fields skipped by, the cars on the roads merely blurs of moving colour as the train flashed past. No more London. No more old Mrs Brown next door, always snooping around like everyone else's business was _her _business, too. Best of all, _no more Andrew! _

A smile twitched the corners of Amy's mouth. Freedom! No more abuse! But what price would she pay for that luxury, that most basic of rights that most children her age took granted?

* * *

"Hurry up!" called the Billeting Officer for the area, as the children scrambled from the carriages and onto the small, rural station platform. Amy had never seen anything so quaint in all her life, at least not first hand. "Right, I am going to call a register, and then-- Will you quieten _down _back there! Thank you! Now, Mary Abbots? Good. Jack Appleton?"

"Wilson" would not be called for at least another forty-seven children, and Amy took advantage of this time to look around. It was a quiet little station she had alighted onto, and she would have forgiven herself for thinking that she had just stepped out of Doctor Who's _Tardis _into the 1940s, if it hadn't been for the electric lighting and the modern train that was only just pulling out of the station once more. It was only then that Amy caught sight of the sign on the wall opposite her. She blinked, then rubbed her eyes once more. But she had seen quite clearly: the sign quite clearly read...

"Little Weirwold." Amy let out a low whistle under her breath. Her thoughts strayed immediately to the book that she had been studying in English 'Good Night Mr Tom'. "It can't be. Can it?"

A great shout from the road made the evacuees turn. The Billeting Officer scowled as a group of local boys swerved into the car park, the breaks of their bikes screaming in protest as they stopped suddenly. Some were about Amy's age or a little young, but a couple seemed older, and this clearly terrified the younger evacuees. They shuffled back away, as though hopping to get out of the way of the fearsome glares the local boys were shooting at them. A little girl who could only have been about six grabbed Amy's hand and hung on grimly, clutching the teddy in her arms closer to her.

The local boys all sneered and laughed. "Look what the cat dragged in!" someone shouted cruelly, glaring at the children on the platform. "The townies come crawlin' back to us for safety like!"

The boys began to laugh loudly, save for one. He looked out at the crowd before him with unemotional grey eyes, then pulled his cap down further over his limp sandy hair. The Billeting Officer cursed under her breath and returned to the register.

"Carly Tanns? Amy Wilson?" She glanced up and saw Amy and Carly nod. "Good. Now, we've got a minibus waitin' to take you up to the village proper. Don' mind the boys like – they'll move off when they get bored."

"I want my mama!" the little girl clutching Amy's hand whimpered as the crowd began to move off after the woman. "I don't wanna go near them big boys!"

"Come on, I'll take you," Amy reassured, though she felt fear stir in her gut once more. These boys weren't bigger or stronger than Andrew, but it looked like they could cause some serious physical damage if they wanted. "Here, I'll take your bag as well."

Wheeling her suitcase and the little girl's at the same time, Amy followed the other evacuees out into the car park towards the local ruffians, the little one still hanging off her arm. Being the only teenage girl amongst the crowd, Amy felt her cheeks redden with embarrassment as some of the older boys wolf whistled as she passed. She hung her head, hiding her face amidst a tangle of blonde hair, feeling nervous and frightened. Most of all, Amy felt sick. A memory stirred at the back of Amy's memory, sickening and terrifying. Amy bit her tongue and forced the memory out of her mind.

"Aw, lookie 'ere!" someone shouted. "The little 'un's got a teddy!"

"Cry Baby needs her favourite toy!" laughed another, though there was nothing funny about what he said. "Cry Baby! Cry Baby!"

Anger flared in Amy's chest, as she whirled suddenly, rounding on the boy that had shouted. He was a rat-faced kid, plagued with acne and too-long limbs, but his tough boy façade disappeared quickly as Amy rounded on him – he hadn't been expecting that.

"Leave her alone!" Amy snarled, surprised by the venom in her voice. "Pick on someone your own size, jerk!"

"Like you?" The voice came from the sandy haired boy with the grey eyes. _Dreamy _grey eyes, Amy noted with a start, as she turned and looked at him. He raised an eyebrow, looking down at her. "You're pickin' a bad day to start makin' enemies, love. _We're _makin' room or _you _in our houses, not the other way round. _We _rule the area. _We _make the rules – not you." The boy leaned over the handles of his bike, looking dead into her eyes. His eyes were hard. "Get it?"

The courage that Amy had mustered from that secret reserve suddenly evaporated. She shrank back, a cold sweat breaking out over her forehead. She couldn't even look the older boy in the eyes as she hurriedly grabbed the suitcases in one hand, the little girl's hand in the other, and then Amy fled towards the minibus, afraid of angering the young man further. He straightened back up, staring after her in alarm. What had he said?

One of his friends whistled, shaking his head. "Smooth, mate – real smooth. That was a cruel thing to say to 'er, Tom."

The rat-faced boy smirked. "I ain't never seen a girl run so fast!"

The older boy, Tom, gave his friend a furious glare. "Leave 'her alone, Darren. Dammit! I ain't never meant to scare her like that – I was jus' tryin' to git 'er to calm down."

"Well, you mucked that one up, Tom!"

Tom cursed fluently and swung his bike in the direction of the car park exit. He peddled up the hill, dodging the minibus with an expert's ease, heading back to the village proper. His mum always said he had a nasty knack for big a big mouth – now it looked like she was right.

* * *

Amy smiled and shyly shook the hands of Vicar and Mrs Mayne. Her new foster parents smiled graciously and offered their new evacuee a cup of tea and biscuits. Within minutes, Amy found herself seated in the downstairs living room with the old couple, her suitcase abandoned upstairs in her new bedroom. The vicar read the letter her father had written with great interest, then chuckled happily.

"Your father needn't worry, Amy – I can promise that I shall continue your religious education here, just like he wants. What have you learnt so far, my dear?"

"This and that," Amy replied timidly. She sipped the tea. "Thanks, Mrs Mayne."

"Oh, please, call me Aunt Tilly," the woman replied, smiling up at her husband. "You make me feel like someone out of the last war!"

"I don't suppose you know anyone here yet, do you?" the vicar asked, then smiled as Amy shook her head. "Well, the children round these parts are very nice indeed. We've only been here two year ourselves, but the people of Little Weirwold go out of their way to welcome you."

_Yeh_, Amy thought bitterly. _Those boys were obviously falling over themselves in desperation to welcome us._

"And if you have any problems – anything at all, my dear – then don't hesitate to ask," put in Aunt Tilly. "All right?"

"Thank you...Aunt Tilly. Actually, do you know if there's a plug in my room?"

"Upstairs? What for, dear?"

"My...my laptop. I was wondering if I could possibly get onto the internet to--"

Aunt Tilly clapped her hands and made a funny _tsk!_ sound. "Of course, Amy! I suppose you'll have all your boyfriends back in London to contact, won't you?"

Amy blushed and shook her head. "No. Just my brother – it's our only means of contact apart from texting."

The vicar indicated the phone cable with a wave of his hand. "No longer than an hour a night, all right? And tomorrow, I'll introduce you to some of our neighbours, yes? You look a little too drained at the moment for socialising. Now, how about something to eat?"

* * *

**There are two members in the chatroom: Liam/Amy**

**Liam: **Hahaha! Yeh, like _you _wound up in Little Weirwold. Did I tell you that my friend's been evacuated to Never Land?

**Amy: **I'm being serious!

**Liam: **I don't think we've been introduced properly... King Tutankhamen at your service!

**Amy:** LIAM! I'm seriously in Little Weirwold! I can see the church and the graveyard from my window!

**Liam: **Can you hear that?

**Amy: **What?

**Liam: **Oh nope, that's ok... Just the sound of the men in white coats coming to take you away!

**Amy: **Couldn't it be the sound of the police coming back to arrest you? AGAIN!

**Laim: **Oh. So you heard. Hangs head in shame Sorry. ...

**Amy: **I'm not the one with the record, am I? After all we went through, how could you even THINK of punching a policeman? They're on our side!

**Liam: **Earth to Amy: he was trying to take me back to Hell! The first chance I get, I'm SO getting out of this place!

**Amy: **Find me?

**Liam: **If I can be bothered. We'll see.

**Amy: **I don't like L.W.

**Liam: **Firstly, if you really ARE in Little Weirwold, just give it 20, 30, 40 years, then you might get used to it! Seriously, give the place a break! Thank your lucky stars you aren't in Barrings Estate.

**Amy: **I got threatened by a older boy today. Told me all that shiz about L.W being _their _area, _their _territory. Or something like that.

**Liam: **How old?

**Amy: **16? 17? Called us 'townies'.

**Liam: **Sticks and stones, Amsie. At least you aren't a member of the Bloomin' Born-In-A-Barn Parade, like him! And if he don't leave you alone, I'll come sort him out.

**Amy: **If you can be bothered?

**Liam: **Exactly. Signing off now. Chin up, yeh?

**Amy: **Ditto.

**Liam: **Keeping strong, kiddo. Jolly good show, and all that.

**Amy: **Thanks. :)

**Amy has signed off. **

* * *

_Ta-da! Please, REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW! And then you can eat my shoe! Llamas, Ginger-Bizkit!_


	5. Little Weirwold

_Have been ill so while lolling around house, decided to update! Hazzar!_

**Little Weirwold**

"It's not what it used to be like," Aunt Tilly told the girl at her side as they walked through the village towards the corner shop come post office. "We have a little museum in the village, too. The whole village was made part of the National Trust in the 1960s, so it attracts a lot of tourists. There used to be a school up there-" the woman pointed down a narrowed road "-but there weren't enough children in the area for the council's liking, so they forced us to close it. You'll have to go up to the big school with the other children by bus."

Amy nodded, all too use to the thought of taking a bus to school to get excited. But she'd never been on a bus in the country before, so maybe this would be different. She looked around the village as they walked, feeling the eyes of the locals on her as they passed. It was as if they'd never seen a girl from the capital before – she felt like she'd sprouted another head!

Some of the boys who had jeered at the evacuees at the station the day before whizzed past on their bikes. The rat-faced boy sneered at Amy as he past, then lead his mates round a corner and towards a hill. The sandy haired bully was not amongst them.

"Ah, Alan! Alan!" Amy looked at Aunt Tilly, then towards the shop the old woman was looking at. A small boy had just walked out of it, carrying a bag of what looked like sweets. He grinned as he saw the vicar's wife, and ran over, waving. "Alan, do you know where your brother is today?"

"Studyin'. Mum said he weren't 'llowed out 'till he gets his DT revision in order like," the little boy answered, eyeing Amy with caution. "You one of them townies? I'm Alan."

"Nice to meet you," Amy said, shaking the boy's extended hand. "What's your brother studying for?"

"GCSEs," Alan muttered. "Mum's doin' her nut! Says he ents workin' like what he should be. Why d'ya wants to know, Mrs Mayne?"

"I was wondering if he would mind popping round to our house a little later," Aunt Tilly said, laying a hand on Amy's shoulder. "Amy doesn't know anyone around here, and she's about your brother's age. I thought it might be nice for her to get to know someone her own age."

Alan beamed. "Tha's fantastic! Mum's always sayin' Thomas needs to get a girlfriend." He thought for a moment, then asked politely. "Can I be your friend, too?"

"Yes, that would be nice," Amy replied, though inside she was panicking. A girlfriend! Oh no, what was going on? What was Aunt Tilly doing! She couldn't associate herself with boys – Andrew didn't even like Liam, and he was her brother!

"Ok, I'll talk to 'im for yer," Alan said, then ran off in the direction of the church. "See ya, Amy!"

"Such a sweet chap," Aunt Tilly sighed, then took Amy's arm, steering her towards the shop Alan had just come out of. "I'm sure you shall get on fine."

"I don't mean to be rude, Aunt Tilly," Amy gabbled, still panicking, "and I am grateful and all, but...I'm not sure I can..."

"Worried about meeting a strange young man?" Aunt Tilly asked jokily, then shook her head. "You have nothing to worry about, my dear – Thomas is a very nice young man. And he lives close by, so you can go to him for help or advice whenever you want. He won't mind. He knows more about this village than I do, and he knows all of the 'cool' new places to 'hang out'. Is that what you children say?"

"Something like that," Amy mumbled. Another girl in extremely baggy jeans passed in the opposite direction and waved cheerfully. Amy felt suddenly very out of place in her skinny fits and _Bat Man _logo t-shirt. "Where are we going?"

"Grociers," Aunt Tilly said, then pushed open the door. "Well hurry up, child! We don't have all day!"

* * *

_Amy its me. Ive just heard about your mother and I cant tell you how sorry I am. Aunty Julie gave me your number and if you want to call me and talk you now have my number to do so. I leave the decision to you. I'm sorry. Jake_

Amy read the old text message on the screen of her mobile once more. It was about the hundredth time she had done so, and every time she did it made her feel even more lost. So why not just delete the message? Amy didn't know. Her dad wanted to get back in contact with her – that was amazing! – but both Liam and Andrew would strictly appose such a thing.

_He's just a phone call away_, Amy thought to herself, as she on one Elizabeth Thatcher in the graveyard, overlooking the stone wall. _Or I could phone the police. Report Andrew. _But Amy knew she'd never have the courage to do that.

A shadow fell across her, startling the girl. Amy leapt to her feet, stuffing the mobile into her pocket as quickly as she could. She half expected to see an infuriated Andrew standing behind her, appearing to torment her just for the mere thought of reporting his wicked ways to the police. Instead Amy saw an old man standing there, his face surprised and just as startled as she. He obviously had not realised that he would give the girl such a fright.

"I'm sorry, child," the man said hurriedly, holding out a hand as though in surrender. "I didn't mean to scare you."

"Tha's ok," Amy gasped, then laughed. Even to her, the laugh sounded false. "I was miles away."

"I just saw you sitting there on the stone, thought you looked a little lonely, and thought I'd say hello." The man frowned slightly. "Are you sure you're all right?"

"Yes. Thanks." Amy's eyes caught sight of the time from the clock on the church tower, and she gasped, alarmed. "I'm sorry, sir, I've got to go. I'm supposed to be meeting someone!"

Even now, Aunt Tilly was appearing at the door of the house and was waving impatiently to Amy. When she saw the old man, the vicar's wife waved a little more cheerfully. The old man grinned and waved back. "Well, you just tell Mrs Mayne that it was all my fault. You'd better hurry up!"

Amy towards the house. There were two houses that backed onto the graveyard: one was the vicarage, and the other belonged to the family that tended the graveyard itself. Amy was up the path and threw the door in seconds, apologising profusely to her new guardian as she passed. Aunt Tilly was about to scold the child lightly for losing track of time when she saw the fear in Amy's eyes. The woman immediately decided to drop the matter, and instead picked up a brush from the counter and dragged it through Amy's hair.

"It doesn't matter, child. Now, come with me." Aunt Tilly lead Amy back into the living room, pushing her forwards towards the middle of the room as a young man stood up from his seat by the fire. "Thomas, this Amy Wilson, my new ward. Amy, this is Thomas Oakley."

The two teenagers stared at each other in alarm. The sandy-haired, grey-eyed Tom cursed himself inwardly as he saw the girl he had so spoked the day before; Amy couldn't believe her ears.

"Thomas _Oakley_?"

Tom nodded slightly. _Not another _Good Night Mr Tom _fan! This ent what I need. _

The vicar's wife beamed, and indicated the coffee table. Two mugs of coco and a plate cookies waited patiently to be eaten. The woman soon disappeared from the room, leaving Amy and Tom alone. Both kept on staring at one another.

"Why are you here?" Amy asked timidly, backing away slightly. "Are you going to have another go at me?"

Tom bit his lip. "Yeh, abou' that – sorry. I didn't mean to scare you like. Ian would've skinned yer if you'd kept on talking to him like that."

_Ah, so _that's _rat-faced boy's name. _"And yet you still stood there and mocked all of us evacuees?" Amy felt her anger harden. "We didn't chose to come here, you know? We don't _want _to cause any problems!"

"I didn't say any of that," Tom snapped. "Ian suggested ridin' down to the station to see the newcomers – I ent realised 'till after you guys got off the train tha' he was routin' for trouble like. I really am sorry."

Amy hung her head, feeling just as ashamed as Tom looked. What what Andrew say if he saw her being so rude to Tom – it looked like he was being sincere enough. Amy indicated a chair and sat herself. Tom followed suit. Feeling her cheeks redden, Amy turned her face from him and stared at the dirty hole where the fire should blaze.

"You ever bin in the country before?" Tom asked suddenly. A mug nudged at her hand, the scolding drink burning her skin momentarily as Tom tried to pass her the other mug.

She took it and nodded in gratitude. "No."

Tom very nearly dropped his drink. "What? You ent never bin? Ever?"

"No." Amy hesitated. "Not for holidays, school trips, or anything like that. I've seen stuff about the country on TV, and I've read some books set in the country, but this is the first time I've actually been in a rural area."

Tom grinned. "Then I'll have to give yer a tour! You ride a bike?"

Again Amy blushed. "No. I lived in a block of flats – no room to keep one."

Tom's jaw looked like it was about to fall off his face and into the mug. _Wow, these townies _are _crazy! Imagine never havin' ridin' a bike... _Tom couldn't bare thinking about it.

"Ok, so no bikes then." The young man frowned then said. "Well, Mrs Mayne wants me to show you around, like, so I'll guess we'll be goin' by foot. Ent right to be ridin' off and leavin' you trailin' behind." At the hopeless look on Amy's face, the youth cursed himself inwardly. "So, you seemed to have recognised my name."

"Yes. We have to read _Good Night Mr Tom _in English."

Tom grinned again and picked a cookie up from the plate before them. He leaned back in the arm chair, dunking the biscuit into the coco. "So, what did you think of it..."

* * *

Aunt Tilly insisted Amy show Tom to the door, where they said an awkward goodbye. He promised to come back round at some point in the morning or late afternoon, and also to pick Amy up on Monday so that she didn't miss the school bus. As soon as the door shut, Amy raced upstairs to her attic bedroom, peering out of the window and out onto the darkened street. She could see Tom walking through the village and wondered which way he would turn. A smile twitched at her lips – she'd never have thought she would be so interested in where a boy lived. 

He walked on. He was... Amy blinked and rubbed her eyes. Yes! Tom had actually walked through the front door to the house that also backed onto the graveyard! In _Good Night Mr Tom_, that was where Willie Beech had lived.

"Blackouts, Amy," Aunt Tilly declared, walking in with a huge black fold of material. She handed a corner to the girl and nodded towards the window. "Wondering why the village was so dark were you?" Before Amy could blush, the woman said, "From tonight, blackouts at every window! Come on, dear, I'll show you how it's done."

* * *

**There are two members in the chatroom: Liam/Amy**

**Liam: **Thomas Oakley, eh? Got an evacuee called Willie staying with him, has he?

**Amy: **I'm not making this up. We swapped chatroom names, too.

**Liam: **I thought you just said he was the kid that was acting all well 'ard round you at the station.

**Amy: **He was.

**Liam: **Then why are you talking to him? The boy is obviously a bad piece of pie!

**Amy: **Aunt Tilly wants me to make friends.

**Liam: **No, "Aunt Tilly" wants to get you a shrink!

**Amy: **Can't you even be a _little _bit supportive of your sister?

**Liam: **I'm looking out for you from afar! Who else is going to? Not Andrew! Not Mum! Not even that no-good dad of ours! By the way, if you get any unwanted text messages, DELETE THEM!

**Amy: **Who are they from?

**Liam: **The scum bag's trying to wheedle his way back into our lives. I told him where he could shove his offer.

**Amy: **I haven't got a text message from him.

**Tom has signed in.**

**Tom: **Hey! None of my mates are on line – probably getting drunk at some party or other. How's you?

**Amy: **Ok. Just talking to my brother.

**Liam: **That would be ME!

**Tom: **Hi. :) Amy's told me a lot about you.

**Liam: **All good, I hope. It had better be good!

**Tom: **A man with a dark side, eh? There were no bad details, if that's what you mean. Your family secrets have remained secret.

**Liam: **Good. My life is P-R-I-V-A-T-E! I feel I must point out to you, Tommy, that if you say one more mean thing to my sister, I'll knock your teeth in! I'm not joking about this either!

**Amy: **Liam! Leave him alone! He said he was sorry.

**Tom: **Thanks. Amy, meet me by the church tomorrow at 12. Mum wants us to go blackberrying. I'm taking the weeds as well. Your brother's a right jerk.

**Tom has signed off.**

**Amy: **Liam! Now you've upset him.

**Liam: **Oh dear, I made Tommy cry.

**Amy: **Tom's right, Liam: you ARE a jerk!

**Amy has signed off. **

**Eddie has signed in.**

**Eddie: **Liam, you out of confinement yet?

**Liam: **No. Why?

**Eddie: **You still want out of Barrings Estate?

**Liam: **Hell yeh!

**Eddie: **As soon as Mr Barrings lets you loose on the world again, call me – you know my number. I have an idea that will keep you out of Barrings' forever.

**Liam: **Remembering your old plans, Ed, this will either be extremely dangerous or extremely illegal.

**Eddie: **Yes or no, Liam? Do you want to be locked up there forever? Remember, I'm the one that kept you from having to go back to your stepfather's after your mum's funeral.

**Liam: **Damn you, Eddie! Can you tell me what you're planning?

**Eddie: **Yes or no?

**Liam: **I must be a bloody fool to trust you, Eddie! Yes.

* * *

_Coolio! Sorry this was such a long chapter! _

_**Rocks-my-socks – **Thanks for the reviews so far! Now you see that she is _kind _of on his doorstep, just not physically! _

_**BeccyJose – **Also thanks for the support! Hope this new chapter was ok!_

_Llamas, Ginger-Bizkit_


	6. A Familiar Face

_Sorry that it's taking me so long to update, only I've been really distracted with mocks, revision, family issues and other whatnots... I still hope you guys like this new chapter nonetheless! _; )

**A Familiar Face**

Amy met Tom outside the church at twelve o'clock the next day. The little boy who had introduced himself as 'Alan' the previous day wasn't there, but there were instead two identical little boys. Tom glanced bitterly at them as Amy approached, then shouted out loudly, "Meet the rest of my family. I call them the Tweeds, or Thumb and Weed, but for your benefit this is Billy and Rodney, the _adorable _twins. Alan isn't here at the moment 'cos he's got a footie match."

"Why do you call them Thumb and Weed?" Amy asked, hiding a laugh as she stared at the twins. "Why not just Billy and Rodney?"

Tom sighed, as though this was the third time he had explained this to her and she really wasn't understanding. "It stands for Tweedledum and Tweedledee, from '_Alice In Wonderland_'. Tweedledum sounds like "thumb", and Tweedledee sounds like "Weed". Git it?"

Amy nodded and grinned. Tom handed her a bucket, then rounded on the Weeds and pointed to the picnic basket. "Carry that, you two, and _don't drop it_. And if either of you even _think _about snuffling any of the biscuits you'll be eating mouse droppings for a week." Tom turned back to Amy and shrugged. "They have to be kept on a short tether, I say. So, have you ever been blackberrying before?"

It started raining half an hour later. Tom, Amy and the Weeds ran back towards the village as fast as they could, staggering under the weight of so many blackberries. Amy and Tom herded the Weeds ahead of them, shouting and laughing as they rushed down the roads towards the village, diving in and out from under the canopies of the trees. Amy hadn't felt so alive and free in years, and she scarcely had time to pause and smell the air around her. She had never smelt such a fresh dampness from trees before, nor seen true mud forming in the green fields before – London just didn't have that, save for in the parks, but it was hardly the same. Amy even had to smile as she remembered her amazement of seeing real sheep before, and her embarrassment as Tom had to explain the differences between the bull and the cow, and pointed out the different yet identical cows in some of the fields, naming them easily from his summer job as a farm hand.

Amy suddenly jumped, realising Tom had spoken to her. His hand was on her shoulder as he asked her the question again, but Amy barely heard it. She leapt back away from him, terror in her eyes.

"Don't touch me!"

"Hey!" Tom retorted, holding up his hands as though in surrender. "Don' freak out on me! I jus' asked if you'd be wantin' a cup of tea? Mum'll be puttin' the kettle on 'bout now."

Amy hung her head, letting her blonde hair hide the shamed reddening of her cheeks. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to get so...worked up. I...I don't know what came over me."

"Don' worry, Amy." Tom suddenly grinned wolfishly, nudging her and nodding towards his house as they past the church. The Tweeds ran ahead, past the gates and through the graveyard, shouting and one another in their boyish manner, Amy and Tom following along slowly behind. "My Mum's laid down the house rules already like. Yeh don' kiss on first dates."

Amy stopped dead in her tracks, mind numb with fright. "I'm sorry? Tom, y-you c-c-can't---"

He rolled his eyes. "I'm jokin', lass. C'mon, I'll introduce to my mum." He pushed open the door, letting out a loud shout: "Mum! Got a visitor!"

A tall, striking woman with red hair and brown eyes appeared in the doorway that lead into what Amy could only guess was the kitchen. "Ooh, is tha' Amy? Ah, my dear, come an' sit yourself down like, make yourself at home! Hope my Tom's been lookin' after you like."

Amy nodded, throat suddenly dry and too tight to speak. Tom saw the nervousness about her, and stuffed his bucket of blackberries into his mother's arms. "Thanks, Mum, jus' embarrass the poor girl, why don't you? We got your blackberries."

"Bes' don' let your granddad hear that we're making jam with it," his mother laughed. "You know how much he likes it."

"Wha do I like?" Amy looked up as an old man entered the room. She started as she recognised the old man who had given her such a surprise in the graveyard the day before, but felt herself smiling as he met her gaze and grinned. "Oh, hello, young lady. You must be Father Mayne's evacuee – Tom's been talking about you so much, I think I may need to muzzle him soon, if I want to get a bit of piece and quiet in my own home."

Tom turned beetroot and glared at the old man. "You could always ask me to shut up."

"Too kind for that," the man replied, then held his hand out to Amy. "Poor child, I feel sorry that you have been introduced to our crazy family! That's very heavy make-up, I must say."

Amy grinned slightly. "It's Emo, sir."

"London _must_ have changed," the man noted, then smiled again. "I was an evacuee once, myself. Will Oakley, at your service."

The girl froze once more, staring at the old man as though someone had just given her an electric shock. Tom hid a laugh behind a fake cough, making Will look at him. "I take it she doesn't know?"

"Nope," Tom said wickedly, pushing his sandy hair back out of his face. "She's read _Good Night Mr Tom_. We were talking about it last night."

"What my grandson has obviously failed to tell you is that Thomas Oakley is his adoptive great-granddad," Will explained to Amy gently, as the girl tried and failed not to gape, scarcely able to believe what she was hearing. "I _was _Willie Beech, a long, long time ago...but then Tom adopted me. I'm sorry my Tom failed to warn you – are you all right?"

"I'm...I'm sorry!" Amy gasped, fighting herself out of her shock. _You're being rude! _"I was reading... You are one of the greatest actors of the twentieth century! You've been an inspiration to actors world wide! I didn't think you'd...still be in Little Weirwold."

Will laughed, motioning to a chair as Tom draped himself lazily in an armchair by the fire, legs hanging off the arms. "Why, thank you...Amy? A nice name, Amy. Well, my acting days are long over, and Little Weirwold is and always will be my home. I brought my wife back to live here, our children were born and raised here, and this is where my father died. There are too many memories for me here to uproot, especially not now." He looked at Tom and winked. "Besides, I have to keep my eye on these unruly descendants of mine! So, evacuee to evacuee, what do you think of this place?"

"It's...different," Amy replied cautiously. "London seems a world away, and...and it's hard to think what might be happening there. The country seems a lot more relaxed, yet far closer to each other. Everyone seems to know everyone."

"Bigger villages and towns are less connected," Tom spoke up. "Little Weirwold has always been a close community like, and it _can_ be a pain."

Will glanced at his grandson, then rolled his eyes at Amy, who smiled slightly. "Don't listen to our Tom. Look, child, if you ever have any questions or need any help, don't hesitate in coming to find me. You'll usually find me helping out down at the local community centre, and...and you should join in the acting group here! Tom's a member."

"He didn't stop pesterin' me for a month," Tom muttered, pulling a face. "I had to give in, in the end, or else I'd've never heard the end of it."

Tom's mother suddenly appeared in the doorway, an apron tied around her waist. "So, you two, do you want to help us make the jam?"

Tom's granddad leant forwards in his chair, eyes dancing. "Jam, I hear you say? We're in for a treat tonight! Go on, Thomas, go and help your mother."

Tom grumbled as he rolled out of the chair, beckoning to Amy. "C'mon, townie. Bet you ent tasted _real _jam before – Granddad always says 'if it ent homemade, it ent worth eatin''."

Amy nodded as she followed Tom into the kitchen, where the two eager-faced twins were leaping up and down on their knees on their seats at the table. They'd obviously been snuffling the odd blackberry while their mother had been out of the room, because their mouths were stained with the glossy red juice of the berries. Tom's mum threw the two teenagers an apron each, then gave her two youngest a light-hearted scolding for being greedy. Amy couldn't help thinking that Andrew would probably have given them a good hour's lecture on the sin of gluttony, and envy struck at her heart: she wished she had a mother like Tom's; so carefree, so cheerful. Her mother had been like that, but she'd been a business woman, far too busy to make jam with her children.

Tom was still grumbling under his breath, eyeing a pile of blackberries. "We always managed to eat more blackberries than we put into the jam," he muttered, then his hand darted out and snared two blackberries. He nudged Amy, pressing one gently into her hand. "C'mon, I'll challenge you to a game: first person to nick fifteen blackberries wins."

Amy hesitated, closing her hand carefully around the berry as Tom popped his into his mouth. "What happens if we get caught?"

"Mum usually flicks water at us," Tom replied, then grinned as he saw the uncertainty in Amy's eyes. "Honestly, anyone would think you were expecting her to beat us with the rolling-pin!"

---

**There are two members in the chatroom: Tom/Amy**

**Tom: **I think I'll scream if I see another blackberry! Honestly, if I never see another one for the rest of my life, it'll be too soon!

**Amy: **I've didn't manage to finish my supper, and Aunt Tilly thinks I'm sick. So embarrassing trying to explain to her that I'd just stuffed myself on jam.

**Tom: **Haha! Poor you! P Did you like my granddad?

**Amy: **I can't BELIEVE you didn't tell me, you meanie! I still can't quite believe you're related to THE William Oakley! I'm still waiting for you to tell me that it's just a big joke!

**Tom: **I'm not THAT mean, Amy. Well... No, the fact just kinda...slipped my mind?

**Amy: **Is he your dad's dad?

**Tom: **Yeh. Granddad had three kids: Zach, Michael and Trudy. Zach was my dad, but he was killed in a car accident when the twins were still squealers. Granddad hasn't heard from Uncle Mike in like a decade, and Trudy moved out to Australia with her husband. She sends Christmas cards and stuff, but it isn't the same, and Granddad hates it. (

**Amy: **Gosh, that's sad! My Mum died a month or so back. I haven't seen my brother since the funeral.

**Tom: **You get on well with your brother, don't you? Mum said Mrs Mayne says he's in a boarding school of some sorts.

**Amy: **Barrings Estate. My stepfather thought he was being too naughty. Liam was into drugs and booze, and he was always being picked up by the police, so Andrew sent him to his brother's boarding school for teenage delinquents – really religious. Andrew and his brother were brought up in a orphanage run by nuns or something piratically since birth, so they're really into that sort of thing.

**Tom: **Eeek! And I thought Father Mayne was bad enough! You heard there's going to be a special programme on TV tonight about evacuees? Gonna watch?

**Amy: **Living it. Don't need to see it.

**Tom: **Soz! Granddad wants to watch it – says he wants to see if the kids of this generation are being treated better than his.

Amy suddenly jumped as Aunt Tilly suddenly came into the living room, the telephone in her hands. "Amy, your stepfather's on the phone for you. Would you like to take it?"

Feeling cold inside, Amy nodded and quickly typed:

**Amy: **Phone call from Andrew. Talk to you soon?

**Tom has signed off**.

"Amy, is that you, love?" Andrew's voice asked gently, as Aunt Tilly handed her the phone and left the room. "I just thought I'd drop a line to see how you're getting along out there."

"Oh, thanks," Amy said quickly, ignoring her trembling hand on the phone. "Are...are you all right?"

"Well enough. I'm missing you – the house is quiet without you. I hear your with a nice family. Are you helping them? Not giving them any trouble, are you?"

"No, Andrew."

"Saying your prayers? Do you read the Bible at six?"

Amy cursed herself inwardly – no, she hadn't. She'd had other things to think about, and it was half seven now. "Yes, Andrew. I get in half an hour, but there's a lot that I have to do. I need to help with the blackouts, make sure the fire's out. Mrs Mayne lets me feed her goldfish."

"That's very nice of her," Andrew's voice commented dryly. Amy could almost _feel _his irritation in her ear. "When does school start? Tomorrow?" Amy confirmed that it did. "Are the children there nice?"

The screen saver on her laptop dissolved, and a flashing sign on her screen announced: **Liam has just signed in.**

**Liam: **Haha! I see you've been talking to Lover Boy again! How is Tommy?

_Answer Andrew! _"Yes, the kids are nice enough." Amy didn't want to mention Tom, or risk a furious lecture over the phone or, worse still, Andrew might come down if he thought... No, Amy didn't want to think of it! "Have you heard from...Liam?"

**Amy: **Talking to Andrew!

**Liam: **Give the old goat my 'kind' regards: I vomit in his face ... Ooops!

Andrew snorted over the line. "That boy? He hates me, Amy; he wouldn't tell me the time of day, not even if his life depended on it. Look, love, I have a report due in tomorrow, so I have to hang up now. You'll be all right, promise? And be good."

"I promise." Amy jumped as the phone buzzed in her ear: Andrew had hung up on her. Not that she was sorry for it; she was glad he was gone. Just hearing his voice made her feel sick with fear. She ran the phone back out to its stand, then raced back to her laptop.

**Amy: **LIAM! I can't escape him! Even when I'm not at home, he still manages to scare me lifeless! He says he misses me, and that the house is quiet without me.

**Liam: **He's just sore 'cos he's got no one to pick on. It's no fun shouting at your own reflection, and it's hard to make a plant scream in pain. You feeling OK?

**Amy: **You'll laugh – I feel really shaky.

**Liam: **Eat some chocolate. And I'm not laughing, not when HE'S concerned. Hugs from afar . Feeling better?

**Amy: **Thanks. ... I made jam today!

**Liam: **I made a mess in the common room. Mr Barrings weren't too impressed. Oh well, hopefully he'll throw me out.

**Amy: **I met Will Oakley today! THE one and only!

**Liam: **Groans, rolls his eyes, dials shrink's number Amsie, you NEED help! Didn't Andy tell you not to lie?

**Amy: **But I'm not. Honestly! He's really nice – you'd like him.

**Liam: **Sure! Hey, I might be getting out of here soon. Maybe I could come and visit you? I'd like to see my baby sister again.

**Amy: **OMG! Seriously? Liam, I'm DYING to see you again! When? Why? How?

**Liam: **I said 'maybe', so don't get too excited. And don't tell Andrew. He doesn't like us seeing each other.

**Amy: **You're not planning to run away, are you?

**Liam: **I'm not an idiot – I don't want the law on my heels. Then again, I don't want to stay here either! Don't start turning into Mum!

**Amy: **When can we talk about her? I want to talk about what happened. It's not fair. Tom's mum's so nice, and it hurts, you know? I wish she were here.

**Liam: **We're better off without. Mum and Dad weren't any good for us. And there's nothing to talk about with Mum – she's dead. That's all there is to it.

**Amy: **She committed suicide. It's not the same.

**Liam: **We BURRIED her, didn't we? Anyway, what do you care? She bailed out on us; left me in Hell, and you with the Devil! I don't talk about traitors, and you shouldn't care so much! And Dad left HER, she turned to Andrew for help, and look where THAT led! Amy, the past sucks eggs, all right! Don't go snooping! Some things are better left forgotten.

**Amy: **What's you're problem? Liam, we can't ignore what happened!

**Liam has signed off. **

Amy stared at the screen, feeling anger flaring within her chest. Slowly, she signed out the chatroom, logged off the computer, and unplugged the laptop. She started school tomorrow, which would require brain power on her part, so an early night might help her get her thoughts in order. Why was Liam such a pig!

"Don't forget the blackouts, Amy," Aunt Tilly called cheerfully, as Amy passed the kitchen. "Sleep well!"

Almost half an hour later, Amy was turning out her light, make-up removed and blackouts secure, but she didn't want to sleep. Creeping to her bedroom window, Amy pulled back the heavy material and peered out across the graveyard towards Tom's house. She smiled as she saw Tom outside in the garden, calling back inside the house when no more lights showed through the glass behind the blackouts. Her heart did a funny kind of somersault as Tom turned and looked over to her house. His arm waved, and Amy leapt back from the window, hastily pressing the blackout back in place. He'd seen her!

_Next you'll be flirting with him! _she scolded herself, then found herself smiling slightly. Tom was _very _good looking, she knew, and she'd always envied the other girls at school who had whispered and cuddled with the boys in her year at school back in London, but no boy had ever shown any interest in Andrew Barring's evil stepdaughter. As he said, how would want to? But Tom... Amy grinned again as she remembered Tom's words: "My Mum's laid down the house rules already like. Yeh don' kiss on first dates".

_I'm just embarrassed for him_, Amy told herself sternly. _He wouldn't flirt with someone like me. He's probably chased by all the girls anyway, so what would he want with me? He's a good friend. He's probably like that around everyone. _

But Liam was up to something, Amy knew. _That _was what she should be thinking about! If he ran away again, he'd just be taken back into Barring's custody. Amy couldn't bear the thought of Liam being in trouble – he _wasn't _a bad person, he was just misunderstood! He just wanted his freedom back! He just wanted to be his own problem! The only reason he'd started hanging out with those bad guys in the first place was because he wanted to get as far away from Andrew as he possibly could, and it had worked in the end, only not as her brother had intended.

_Don't be an idiot, Liam_, Amy wished she could tell her brother, as she clambered into bed. _Don't do anything you'll regret! Please, Liam! _Her eyelids fluttered and closed. _I want you to visit, but not if you're being hunted! I don't want to lose you!_

The next thing Amy knew, she was opening her eyes as Aunt Tilly pulled the blackout away from her window, letting dazzling sunlight come streaming into the room. School! Amy groaned and pulled the duvet up over her head.

"Amy, love, come on! You need to get dressed!" the woman was saying kindly. "I've got you're breakfast on the table, and Tom will be round soon to take you to the bus. Amy Wilson, get up!"

---

_There we are! Again, sorry for the delay! Please review! Thanks to all my reviewers – I love your support! Cookies for all! Llamas, Ginger-Bizkit!_


	7. Dreams And Threats

_Thank you reviewers! You're all great support! _XD

**Dreams And Threats**

Tom snorted with laughter as he pushed Amy off the school bus in front of him. The sky was already growing dark overhead as the students that lived in Little Weirwold jumped off the muddy minibus, their bags heavy with books for homework. Tom had been entertaining the nervous Amy all the way to school, then back in the evening, with films that he'd recorded on his phone. The one Tom had just shown her was of a physics experiment they had done, and the poor little conical flask had been overflowing with white froth, as the students took it in turns to dart their phones in as close as they could to the obvious disaster. If Tom hadn't insisted on kicking two smaller kids out of seats, Amy wouldn't have been able to cope on the strange bus without him.

Rat-faced boy was on the bus as well, Amy had noticed. The filthy look he'd given her as Tom had dumped his bags on the floor besides her as they had seated themselves was enough to make Amy feel that the boy did not thank her for Tom's absence in the seat with his gang. As the two friends began to walk towards the church, the bully pushed past, knocking Tom sideways into Amy. He stumbled, grabbing Amy's shoulders to steady himself, and the girl let out a small scream of surprise. Tom was apologising furiously, then looked up and bellowed: "Darren! Darren, what are you playin' at?" But the boy had run off.

"I thought you said he was Ian," Amy muttered, adjusting the strap of her bag to even out the weight once more, as Tom picked up his rucksack from the ground where he'd dropped it.

"No, he's Darren. _That's _Ian." Another boy walked past, following after Darren. He shot Amy a filthy look, refusing to acknowledge Tom. "Don' worry, I'm sure they'll come round after their bruised pride heals."

Amy paled slightly. "I haven't caused a rift between you and your friends, have I?"

"No." Tom didn't sound like he believed his own words. "Look, I've got a ton of revision to do like. I'll see you tomorrow morning."

"Will you be in the chatroom?" Amy asked hopefully, but the boy shook his head.

"Mum bans me during the week, 'till she feels I'm puttin' in 200 per cent like." They stopped by the vicarage door, Tom shrugging. "Well...see you."

Amy nodded and scampered inside. She felt so stupid, as thought Tom was blaming her for the bad feelings amongst his friends. Not that he'd _said _as much, but the look that had been in his eyes as the guy Ian had purposefully blanked him... Amy shuddered and raced upstairs, barely noticing Aunt Tilly calling out to her from the kitchen. She raced upstairs, dumped her bag on the ground, and began to change out of her uniform – the black trousers and blue shirt were more relaxed than the smart green skirt and mustard-yellow shirt of her London uniform, but Amy hated any type of uniform with a vengeance. The squeal of breaks outside on the road made her freeze as her fingers plucked open the buttons of her shirt, then she dropped to a crouch at the end of her bed, chewing her lip nervously as she held her breath.

"Yer a filthy, no-good townie! We don't want you, do you hear? Go back to London!" Amy recognised the voice as rat-boy's, and she shuddered. _I've made an enemy! _"Go back to London! We don't wan' you here!"

She heard the bang of doors outside, the grating of bike wheels on the tarmac. Amy jumped as she heard old Will's voice shouting from the front door of his house, and even from upstairs in her room, Amy could almost _feel _the way his voice shook with disgust. "Get out of here, Darren Jenkins! How _dare _you? Go on, get away!"

Amy was trembling. She finally managed to shed her shirt, throwing the useless garment away as her throat tightened and became sore. Her eyes felt moist; she couldn't help feeling hurt by the hateful words Darren had shouted. And so publicly! She felt even more stupid and worthless; even worse, Tom must have heard as well.

_I _hate _this village! _Amy thought fiercely. She cursed herself as she realised her t-shirts were all in her chest of draws, but moving from safe ball at the end of her bed was the last thing she felt like doing. She ignored the tears that rolled down her cheeks, and sniffed back her runny nose. _It's a cold, nothing more! C'mon, move! You can't sit here forever – you've got homework to do!_

She forced herself up onto her knees and crossed to the chest of draws. She pushed her _Superman _t-shirt out of the way, fingers barely able to grasp the plain, simple grey t-shirt. It was baggy and didn't stand out – that was the last thing Amy wanted to do. She---

"Heaven bless!" Amy spun as she heard Aunt Tilly's voice, then quickly dragged her t-shirt up over her head as she reddened. She hadn't realised the woman had knocked. Aunt Tilly was staring at her in horror. "Amy...what are those horrible marks on your back?" Her voice was quiet, sickened.

"N-nothing," Amy replied quickly, knowing she was lying. Her back was a shrine to Andrew's belt and buckle, and she was still aware of the bruise that his fist had left. It may not have been as inflamed or purple as it had been to begin with, but it was still stark against her pale skin. "I fell over. H-hit my back on the wall. I'm fine."

She looked up at met Aunt Tilly's gaze, but it was obvious that the woman did not believe a word she said. "Amy, if there's _anything _you want to tell me, we can sort it out. I promise! _No one _should treat you like that, do you hear me? No one!"

"I _fell_!" Amy insisted, then shook her head. "Please, you're blowing this out of proportion!" _Andrew will kill me if I tell!_

The woman sniffed, back stiffening. Was she offended that Amy wouldn't tell her? "Tom's on the phone. Do you want to talk to him? Or should I ask him what those bruises are all about?"

Amy pushed past the vicar's wife, grumbling under her breath. She hurried down the stairs, picking up the handset from the chair next to the stairs. "Hello?"

"Are you all right?" Amy felt her heart swell – Tom sounded concerned! "Darren's an idiot! He talks crap; you shouldn't listen to him, but that was uncalled for. Granddad says he's gonna call up his folks and report him."

"Don't do that!" she gasped, horrified. "He'll just aggravate the situation! I'm grateful he sent him away, but... Tom, don't let him! Darren will just get angrier!"

Tom choked on the other end of the line, as though unable to believe what she was saying. "You're kiddin' me, righ'? Well, I'll be pickin' bones with him tomorrow like, no matter what you say! He shouldn't 'ave done tha', and I'll see he leaves you well alone!" There was silence over the line for a moment, the two teenagers bristling with anger. Finally, Tom sighed and muttered: "Look, do you want me to come over?"

"You have revision," objected Amy quietly, then shook her head. "I'll see you tomorrow before school. All right?"

"Honestly, don' listen to Darren. He'll cool off – I hope. Bye."

"See you," Amy whispered, then replaced the phone. When she turned, Aunt Tilly was standing behind her, her facial expression unreadable. "I told Tom not to come over."

"Amy, I want to talk to you about those marks on your back," the woman told her quietly. "What in the name of all that is good _happened_?"

The girl just stood there and stared. There wasn't enough words within her head to tell what had happened, not that she wished to. Although the vicar and his wife were nice, Amy didn't know how nice they'd remain if they knew what a sinner she was. She didn't want to lose the closest thing she'd had to a family in such a long, long time. Tears welled at the back of her eyes, and Amy was suddenly crying. Aunt Tilly reached out and gently pulled the girl into her arms, hugging her tightly to her as Amy wept and wept.

"Who did this to you, Amy?" Aunt Tilly asked quietly, as she stroked the child's blonde hair soothingly. "You can tell me, child. We can sort this out, I promise. Just tell me who's hurt you like this so badly."

She nearly missed Amy's reply through the girl's sobs, but when Amy repeated herself, the woman felt her blood turn to ice within her veins. "I wasn't hurt by anyone! Please, just...just leave it!"

Amy wrenched out of the tight grasp, turning and running from the woman. She heard Aunt Tilly shouting her name, pleading with her to calm down, that everything would be alright... But how could it be? She'd nearly told! Andrew said it was more than her life's worth to tell, that no one would believe her anyway, and now she was _asking _for someone to find out what kind of a child she was. She didn't want the vicar and his wife to realise how evil she was! Amy didn't stop running until she was upstairs in her room, hitting off the light switch as she past. She headed straight for bed, too shaken to do anything but sleep.

* * *

_Andrew was there. In her dream, a belt in one hand, a book in the other. 'Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone'... As he had done the night he'd discovered the book in Amy's closet, Andrew looked like he was about to be sick._

"_How _dare _you read something like this? It goes against God! It goes against everything good!"_

"_It's a children's book – it's not wrong!" Amy begged, feeling suddenly stupid. "Please, Andrew. It's just a book---"_

_Andrew shoved the book in her face. Amy gasped, on the front cover was Tom – just Tom – and Andrew's hand snarled on her shoulder. "You're meddling, girl! Meddling with hearts and lips is bad. He's encouraging you, girl."_

"_No!" _

_Andrew's face grew livid. "He's throwing you to Satan! Deny that you've been with this boy!"_

"_I'm innocent!"_

"_LIAR!"_

Amy was suddenly awake. On the border of her panic, Amy heard the front door slam, then a buffet of icy wind whipped up her hair. She didn't realise that it was barely a half hour after she had gone to bed - it felt like years. Amy was distantly aware of her bare feet pounding on the ground as she forced the gate at the bottom of the garden open, then she was through into the graveyard. Where was she going? Amy didn't have time to think about that as she heard the door open again behind her, and Aunt Tilly's voice pierced the night air.

"Amy! Amy, come back! _Amy!_"

Amy reached the end of the graveyard, turning her eyes away from the sight of the church. _God's watching me_, Amy thought wildly, still half stuck in her dream. Within that dream, Amy knew Andrew had been right to call her liar, even if in the real world his accusation would have been wrong. _He'll see everything I've done, heard all I said... I know He's hating me, I know it!_

She felt the cool wood under her palms, heard the creaking of the gate as she forced it open. Aunt Tilly was still screaming her name, even now she was running after the girl, but Amy was of a slight build, smaller, and nearly forty odd years younger. Out into the field beyond Amy ran, wanting only to get away, wanting to find the nearest hole and hide. All she could think about was getting as far away from Little Weirwold as she could.

Someone seized her by the arm. Amy shrieked with terror, trying to pull away, but the person merely grabbed her arm caught arm with his second hand, pulling her out of her run so abruptly that Amy nearly tripped. It was Andrew; he'd caught her already! Amy reacted the only way should could think: she closed her eyes and swung her free hand – which was clenched into a terrified fist – at her stepfather. She heard a dull thud of the impact on his shoulder, but it barely made him flinch.

"Amy, stop it!"

Amy struck again and again, screaming at Andrew to let her go. Finally, she heard a small cry of pain as she wildly punched him, catching the side of his head, and the grip on her arm vanished. Freed, Amy turned and sprinted blindly away, stumbling over the uneven ground of the field.

"Amy, for God's sakes, wait!"

The grip returned, this time on her waist. Amy struck out again; Andrew hit back, shoving her to the ground. As Amy tried to scramble back to her feet, sobbing with terror, a pair of hands caught her shoulders, pulling her back. She was forced back and down within seconds, positioned randomly so that she was lying looking up at the stars, and the hands kept her pinned. Amy screamed even louder.

"Calm down! Amy, stop fightin' me, it's Tom!"

His voice broke through her panic. Her terrified tears gave way to ones of humiliation and shock. Tom? She'd been fighting Tom? No! No, it was Andrew! He was toying with her!

"Get away from me! Let me go! Not again, _please_!"

Tom struggled to keep the girl pinned – for someone so scrawny, Amy was surprisingly strong. But this wasn't the Amy he was getting to know, this was an Amy that Tom didn't know whether to pity or fear. She had her eyes scrunched for the most part, but when she did open them, her green eyes were alive with terror and unseeing confusion. What had happened? Why was Amy so out of control suddenly?

_Darren! _Tom thought suddenly, feeling very cold. _But how could somethin' so...so childish as _his _stupid jealousy affect Amy like this? There must be---_

"Tom?" It was Will, accompanying Mrs Mayne. Tom didn't risk letting go of Amy, case she tried to make another break for freedom. "Heaven bless, you're bleeding!"

"It's nothin'," growled Tom, knowing all too well the wound on the side of his head was due to Amy's nails. "What happened? What's wrong with her?"

For a moment, Will didn't say anything. Neither did Mrs Mayne. They stood besides Tom, their faces a mixture of anger and sadness, waiting until Amy's struggles became less violent on the ground where Tom held her. Finally, the girl lay very still where she was, sobbing piteously. Tom gently pulled the girl up into a sitting position, hushing her as he held her to him, hugging her close.

"Granddad," Tom insisted again, looking back at Will and glaring with eyes wild with annoyance, "what's wrong with Amy?"

"You'd best bring her inside, Tom," was all the man replied, his tone gentle. "We don't want her to catch her death, do we?"

"Granddad, I---"

Will held up his hand to silence the boy. "We'll tell you inside – now isn't the place."

The old man bent to help pull Tom and Amy to their feet. The girl was trembling violently all over, tears staining her cheeks, yet Tom did not ease his hold of her shoulders. He looked at the quietly observing Mrs Mayne, whose hands seemed to be clasped in prayer.

"All right, Granddad," Tom muttered quietly, then nodded. "It had better be a good excuse like."

* * *

**There are two members in the chatroom: Tom/Liam**

**Tom: **Liam, it's Tom.

**Liam: **Yea, the name on the comment box kinda gave you away. Sorry to burst your happy bubble.

**Tom: **Amy had a nightmare last night. She went completely berserk, tried to run away. I went after her, but she didn't seem to recognise me. She hit me.

**Liam: **What did you do to her?

**Tom: **Nothing! I just tried to stop her running away.

**Liam: **Is she alright now?

**Tom: **Doctor told her to take a day off school to try and calm down. She's a bundle of nerves, though she's claiming everything is OK. Why would she think I'm your stepfather? She didn't want me to touch her.

**Liam: **She must have been dreaming about him.

**Tom: **Why would she tell me to "let her go" and "not again"?

**Liam: **Look, Tommy-boy, you should probably know that I don't like you. I also don't like people who go nosing into business that don't concern them.

**Tom: **Amy's my friend!

**Liam: **And she's MY little sister. If she wants to tell you, she will in her own time. I'll keep my mouth shut, thanks.

**Tom: **What kind of brother are you if you don't want to help the people who are trying to help your sister! She's hardly eaten anything today! I don't think she slept a wink last night after the nightmare!

**Liam: **You have no right to tell me what kind of brother I am! There are things that have happened to our family, mate, that we prefer keeping to ourselves! Keep your nose out or else I'll bloody it for you!

**Tom: **Is that a threat?

**Liam:** Oh I wouldn't try being cocky with me. Lay one finger on my sister, nose around where you ain't wanted, and I'll hunt you down. I mean what I say.

**Tom:** You're a nasty piece of work, Liam Wilson.

**Liam:** Why thank you, Tommo! I'm flattered!

**Tom: **Will you at least call Amy? I'm sure SHE'D like to hear from you.

**Liam: **I can't right now. Maybe later.

**Tom: **Thanks, Liam. You've been a fantastic help.

**Tom has signed off.**

**Eddie has signed in.**

**Eddie: **I'm sending you the papers. Sent them off today.

**Liam: **When will they be here?

**Eddie: **Should reach Barrings by Monday, if we're lucky.

**Liam: **That doesn't give me much time. What are they in? You didn't just SEND them, did you?

**Eddie: **I'm not an idiot, Liam. No, I sent you a squeaky dragon toy – cut it up and find the forms for freedom within!

**Liam:** You know when your sister had that boyfriend? The one that got her up the duff last year?

**Eddie: **That guy was a complete freak! Whoever invented abortions was a genius. Yea, what about him?

**Liam: **How did you get rid of him again?

**Eddie: **Smashed the windows of his house and car. Used a bit of graffiti to spray a warning on the wall outside his house. Why?

**Liam: **I think Amy's getting involved with a loser like him.

**Eddie: **Careful, Liam, the price I paid for my little array of gifts to my sister's ex was a little too heavy for my tastes. Anyway, isn't she in Cornwall?

**Liam: **Little Weirwold. It doesn't matter, Eddie, forget I said anything.

**Eddie: **Just make sure you keep the forms hidden, all right?

**Liam: **Yeh. Thanks, mate.

**Liam has signed off. **


	8. Conversations

_Thank you!!!! All your reviews are amazing! Don't stop now! _XD

**Conversations**

School was better. Rat-boy left her alone; if anyone knew about her berserker moment, they kept their comments to themselves. Amy herself was grateful for the normality of the school day. She had spent the day before being nannied by Aunt Tilly, who bombarded her with tea and cookies until Amy thought she would be sick. When a plate of soup was place in front of her at supper time, Amy nearly whooped for joy.

Tom. He was the only downside to school. Whenever the bell for next lesson went, or the bells for break and lunch, Amy would heave her bag onto her shoulder and find Tom lingering in the doorway of the classroom, waiting for her. She didn't want to talk to him. She could still plainly remember her mistake, of thinking he was Andrew; how could she even _look _at him again after she had hit him? The last thing Amy wanted to do was talk to him, terrified he would say something or pester her into telling her what her dream had been about? So she walked on past him, keeping her head down and her eyes lowered to the floor. And each time Tom merely stepped past, said nothing, and let her go.

The journey home was unbearable. Amy sat at one end of the bus; Tom sat down opposite and stared at her continuously during the journey. When the bus stopped, Amy made sure she was first off the bus, and purposefully took an alternate route round the village so she could avoid Tom. When she glanced over her shoulder, he wasn't to be seen. Feeling relieved, Amy scurried on home. But when she got to the gate, Tom was waiting for her.

"You can't ignore your neighbours," he called to her, as Amy hesitated at the end of the road. "Best of all when he's your best friend."

Amy kept her head down. As she neared the wall where Tom sat, her chest began to tighten. She heard the light thud on the pavement as Tom jumped down to his feet, her throat turning dry as Tom walked up to meet her. He hadn't confronted her at school; now he stepped in front of her and refused to move.

"Amy, you can't ignore me." She tried to side step him, but this time Amy felt a hand snare her arm and hold her. Her immediate reaction was to shy back, trying to pull away, but Tom would not ease his grip. She glanced up, eyes wide with terror, and met Tom's narrowed stare. "Stop it, Amy. I'm here to help you, not hurt you."

"Let go," Amy pleaded. Her voice lacked conviction. "Tom, please."

His face was determined. "Tell me what you saw. I just want to help you."

"Really?"

"Yes."

"Then leave me alone!"

He stared at her for a minute, as though not able to believe what she was saying. Then he stepped back, shaking his head. He held her arm for a moment longer, then let it fall back to her side. "You're blind, Amy. You have friends – friends who care for you and want to help you like. I'm one of them."

Amy's skin tingled. "You haven't known me that long."

"So? What do you want me to say, Amy? I'm _tryin'_ here." He glanced her over, then shook his head bitterly. "I feel like I'm the only one who is like."

She couldn't say anything else to him. Without another word, Amy pushed passed and walked briskly through the gate and up the path to the house. Tom was watching her leave; she could feel his eyes glaring into her back. "You know where I am if you decide to grow up."

Amy stopped in her tracks, hand braced on the door handle. _Grow up...grow up? He should spend a year living with Andrew, _then_ he'd know what it is to be vulnerable_.

She didn't respond to his insult. Instead she opened the door and ducked into the security that lay inside.

* * *

The phone rang just before six. From upstairs in her bedroom, Amy heard the bell cut short in mid-wail, and Aunt Tilly's voice was heard distantly talking to the person on the other line. Amy's eyes fell back to the Biology homework on her desk, only to have her head jerk back up as Aunt Tilly's voice called up, "Amy! Your brother's on the phone!"

Amy was out her chair and down the stairs faster than Aunt Tilly could draw breath. She took the phone gratefully, and felt her heart soar as a familiar voice said, "Good to hear you're still alive, sis."

"I haven't spoken to you in ages!"

"Yeah, sorry about that. The Jesus Folk had me banned from the phone after the whole me-vs.-police incident. Meh, but I got back onto the chatroom pretty quick, so it weren't too bad." There was a moments silence, before Liam said, "Had darling Tommo stalking me last night. Told me all about your little dream."

Amy heart spiraled back down to hell. "Oh. You heard."

"Jeezum, that guy finds it hard to understand the words 'bugger' and 'off'. Did he give you any trouble today? I mean, if he was being pushy with _me_ online last night, then ---"

"Tom?" Amy laughed, trying to understand why she was protecting him. "He didn't say a thing to me in passing."

Liam snorted at the other end of the line. "Ooooh, _somebody's_ nose just grew and smashed a window, didn't they, Amy? Honestly, next time he says something, tell him to go play in the traffic. I can help him!"

"No, I think I'll be all right."

"Heard from Andrew?"

"No."

"Meh, maybe just a well then." Another awkward pause. "So you _are_ all right then?"

Amy smiled and nodded, grasping the phone tightly in her hand. "Yes. Liam, honestly, I'm fine. Thanks for calling."

Her brother sounded like he was grinning from ear to ear. "No problem. I mean, who else is going to be phoning up to check you're all right? Mum? Ah, nope, she croaked it. Dad? No, he ran off with some tart."

"That's not fair, Liam."

"Of course it isn't," he replied sweetly, then sighed. "Look, I've gotta go. Talk to you soon, right?"

"OK."

And then he was gone. Amy put the phone away, her mind buzzing. _Who else is going to be phoning up to check you're all right? Dad?_ The words had put a crazy idea into her mind. An idea so crazy, Liam would stop speaking to her if he ever found out.

_But why shouldn't I?_ Amy asked herself fiercely, as she made her way back up the staircase towards her room. _It's my life. I can do what I want! _

She reached her room and went to her bed, where her bag lay with its contents spread across the duvet like the blood round a corpse. Shoving a mound of books onto the floor, Amy sat down and scooped her phone out of the bottom of the bag. Her hands were shaking as she flipped open the phone and started to text. _I'm mad_, she told herself. _I must be made_.

But she could not stop.

_Hey dad good 2 hear 4rom u __can i call u soon? Amy_

And then the text was sent. To the man who had run out on them; who had left their mother to get married to Andrew, and leave them to the mercy of that man. She waited and hoped, and prayed that Jake – her real father – would not feel bitter about the time it had taken her to pluck up the courage to talk to him. And then her phone buzzed.

_Of course you can! Any time of day. Don't tell your brother though he isnt very keen about us all talking again. Jake._

* * *

**There is one member in the chatroom: Amy**

**Tom has signed in.**

**Tom:** I got your text – what's wrong?

**Amy:** Can I say sorry?

**Tom:** Do you mean it??? XD Of course you can!

**Amy:** You don't really think I'm not grown up, do you?

**Tom: **Yea, sorry about that. I overreacted – I was the one who was acting like a stupid kid. I'm sorry. You're sorry. Let's just kiss and make out.

**Amy: **Erm... Isn't it make up?

**Tom:** Probably. Don't tell you're brother (he doesn't like me very much)

**Amy:** He's just over protective of me. Sorry.

**Tom: **Maybe you should have beaten him as a child.

**Amy:** What makes you think he wasn't?

**Tom: **You're joking, right???

**Amy:** No. Andrew used to hit us. There I said it! Now you know why I'm so messed up!

**Tom:...**that sucks! Have you told anyone? Police? Social services?

**Amy:** No one would believe us.

**Tom: **Granddad got beaten as a kid – he got through it. Tell! Tell someone!

**Amy: **I'm not ready.

**Tom:** That's stupid!

**Amy: **It isn't easy, Tom! You're always scared, you're always wondering if you're really that bad... I'm not ready to tell everyone everything!

**Tom:** Then talk to Granddad – he'll help. He suspects that's what's happened to you any way, so you're basically just living in denial.

**Amy:** You don't understand, Tom. I can't forget! I want to, and talking will make me remember even more! I DON'T WANT THAT!

**(Minutes pass)**

**Tom:** Go out with me.

**Amy:** WHAT????

**Tom:** One word: yes or no.

**Amy: **I have to go.

**Amy has signed off.**


	9. News Most Foul

_Thank you reviewers! You're all great support! _XD

**News Most Foul**

**There are two members in the chatroom: Amy/Tom**

**Tom:** Did I offend you last night?

**Amy:** No. Not really. Were you joking when you asked me out?

**Tom:** I wasn't screwing with your mind, leading you a merry dance, pulling the wool over yours eyes... Can't-think-of-any-other-phrase-ing you, if that's what you mean. I wouldn't do that – you know me.

Did she? Amy sat back on the seat, staring helplessly at the laptop that was perched on her lap. Tom _seemed_ genuine enough, but Amy had never allowed herself – or been allowed – to talk to boys; Andrew had always made sure of that. The words of her stepfather rang in her mind – she was a demon child, evil, too morally vulnerable to allow to remain in the company the young men who would tempt her to drop her guard.

**Tom: **Amy? Are you still there?

Amy looked at the flashing screen, then bit her lip. She wasn't in London any more. Andrew wouldn't know about her feelings for Tom if she didn't tell him. Her screen flashed once more.

**Tom: **Please? Wuv you? Come on, I am a guy - these lovey-dovey words are hard for me to choke out at the best of times!

Amy snorted with laughter, clasping a hand to her face as she stared at the words on the screen in front of her. He was trying to convince her – why _shouldn't_ she give in? The Devil? Hell? Eternal damnation?

**Amy: **Tom, I'll go out with you. Just please don't tell me this is a joke.

**Tom:** It isn't! Aw, thank you! I can't tell you how happy I am!!!!!!!!

Amy glanced up as Aunt Tilly entered the room. Her face was white, pale, even in the dim light of the living room. Behind her in the hall, Amy could hear the vicar talking on the phone to someone; his voice was urgent, low, as though not wanting to be fully overheard.

"Amy, dear, could you come off that computer a moment? There's... Something's happened, my dear."

"All right, of course."

**Amy:** I have to go, Tom. Talk to you tomorrow?

**Tom: **KK, bye. Love you!

**Amy has logged off.**

"What's wrong?"

"My dear, put that laptop down." The vicar appeared in the doorway. He swapped a concerned look with his wife, while Amy slowly lifted the laptop off her lap and onto the tabletop in front of her. "Amy, your brother...Liam... Barring's Estate called your stepfather Andrew---"

Amy's throat tightened. "What's happened to Liam?"

"He's... Amy, your brother's run away. He's missing."

_What? _Amy's mind swam. Liam, missing? From Barring's Estate?

"The police, they'll find him---"

Aunt Tilly's voice was painfully gentle. "They haven't yet, my dear. He went missing Monday evening."

"But he called me last night!" Amy cried, unable to believe what the woman was saying. "That was Tuesday night!"

The vicar's head shook. "It would seem as though that call came from his mobile. He wasn't in the Estate when he called you. Your...your stepfather told the police that you would know where your brother was – they're coming to see you in the morning."

"But I have no idea---"

"Hush, my dear!" Aunt Tilly begged, as Amy half stood, eyes wide with horror. "Look, just sit down and I'll make you a nice cup of cocoa! Everything will be all right, I promise."

Amy felt her world slip out of proportion as the vicar's wife rushed from the room, still begging her to keep calm. Liam was missing. The only person to care about her, to care when no one else cared that their mother was dead and Andrew was a filthy, violent cad. And now that final piece of comfort – a comfort that had been torn from her once before – had vanished into the ether, and in a time of war! Where could he _be_? And Andrew was claiming that she knew where Liam was! She would have asked how and why he would say such a thing, but it was the type of snide thing that her stepfather would have done.

_Oh God, Liam, where are you?_ Amy thought desperately, unable to keep the tears held back any longer. _Where are you? Why have you run? Why, damn you, why?_

The ticket master peered over his glasses at the youth before him, as the boy painfully counted out the change on the counter in front of him. The youth's moves were slow, sluggish; he barely seemed awake.

"How much was it, sir?" the youth asked again, frowning.

"£19.45," the ticket master repeated, then glanced at the watch above the boy's head. It read 11.23am. "Isn't it a little late for you to be buying rail tickets, lad?"

The youth shrugged and pushed the money across to the man's hands. "Can I have the ticket or can't I?"

Grumbling under his breath about the arrogance or youth, the man ripped a ticket and passed it to the youth. He nearly snatched the ticket from the old man's house, stuffing it deep into the pockets of his hoody. "The train don't come through 'till 1:00am. Don't you have a place to sleep?"

"Yep," the youth replied merrily, the faked a courtly bow. "The ol' bench out on yonder platform shall be where I rest my weary head tonight, sir."

"Get out of here!" the ticket master snapped, as the youth turned and tugged the hood of his jumper up and over his head. "Go on, before I change my mind and call the police and report you for nuisance."

Liam pushed his way out of the door and onto the platform, wincing as the bitter night air whipped at his face. Absently, his fingers toyed with the money that jangled in his pockets: he had a pitiful total of £25 left. How that would get him to London, Liam had no idea.

But first, he had to sort out that wanton boy who was harassing his baby sister.


	10. I'm RoryShort For Liam

_GCSEs are now OVER!!!! I have more free time than I know what to do with – mostly, I sleep. _

**I'm Rory...Short For Liam**

When Aunt Tilly showed the nice policewoman and her partner out of the house, Amy made a break for freedom out of the back door. She hadn't even closed the door before she saw movement from amongst the quiet tombstones: Tom, who had been sitting atop a thirty-nine-years-dead Alice Crewherst, leapt to his feet as he saw the girl exit the house. They stood on opposite ends of the graveyard to each other, staring with equal apprehension, like two strangers meeting for the very first time. Then Amy ran to him, flinging her arms around his neck before breaking down into great sobs of tears.

"Hey," Tom soothed, hugging her tightly to him while she cried. "C'mon, Amy, it's all right. It can'ah been that bad like."

"You have no idea!" Amy whispered against the warmth of his shirt. She bit her lip, trembling. "Liam's run. The police have _no_ idea where he's gone, and..." She swallowed, hard. "Andrew, my stepfather...he wants to come here and talk to me."

Tom felt his heart turn numb within his chest. "The one who beat you?"

"Who else?"

His eyes lifted. There, at the window of his house, Tom saw a corner of the curtain twitch. Old Will's face peered round the corner, but disappeared after a fearsome glare from his grandson. Tom knew what had happened to his grandfather when he was a boy: he had been forced to return to London, where he was locked in a cupboard by his crazed mother and forced to try and keep his little sister, Trudy, alive. It had failed miserably. At least if Andrew came here to Little Weirwold, Tom reasoned to himself, there would be plenty of people present to protect Amy. He hesitated as he felt Amy's arms tighten around him slightly – he liked hugs, of course, but not when they threatened to crush the life from him.

"Look, would you like to try 'n take your mind off this trouble like?" Tom suggested quietly, making Amy look up at him. "One of the girls in my class is havin' a party, down on Midhope Farm. Her folks is out, 'n she was wonderin' if I'd like to bring someone alone like, so there's more of a crowd."

The girl in his arms blanched, pulling out of his hold. "So you're inviting _me_?"

He couldn't help laughing outright, tweaking the girl's nose fondly. "Aye, you're my lass, ent you? 'Course I'm going to invite you!"

Amy gaped at Tom in amazement. "Me? But I'm a townie---"

"You've nothin' to worry about – Ian and his motley crew is grounded 'cos of what they said to you." Tom pulled a mock-pleading face, falling to his knees before her. "Please come? Please? I'll be eternally in your debt."

The girl looked at him. For a moment, it looked to Tom that she was about to shake her head, but then a wave of relief washed over him as Amy sniffed, wiping back the last of her tears, and nodded vigorously. "Do I need to bring anything?"

"A sleeping bag," Tom said cheerfully, leaping to his feet once more. "And your own pretty self. I'll talk to Father Mayne for you, if you want, and Aunt Tilly. I'm sure they'll let you go if I'm there with you."

Laughing, Amy shoved him indignantly. "Careful, Thomas Oakley, or someone might believe you think I need to be watched like some little child."

The older boy winked. "You're the one whose always complainin' about how she's never done normal teenage stuff before like. Pick you up about eight, right?"

"If you insist," Amy replied airily, and before Tom could reply she was walking back down towards the vicar's house. Not even he could ignore the spring that was in her step.

* * *

The warden on the train had his job cut out. Running back and forth along the length of the eight carriages, he was calling for the blinds at the window to be removed. But as he reached the furthest carriage, he saw that the only occupant within was curled up on the seats, using his rolled-up hoody as a pillow. The warden blinked back the beginnings of rage: he was _not_ in the mood for throwing some teenage-trap from the train again, not after the last one tried to knife him! Instead, the man slid the door opened, and tapped the boy smartly on the shoulder with a gloved hand.

"Wake up, sonny," the man snapped in his ear, making the youth wake with a strangled cry of alarm. "The sun's up, and it's time for you to show me your ticket."

The boy blinked stupidly, half-yawning, half-swearing. "Wha...? Ouch!" More curses filled the tiny carriage as the warden yanked open the blind and let burning sunlight spill into the carriage. "Jesus, mate! Can't a guy get decent shut eye round here?"

"Watch your language," the warden growled, as the youth rubbed the backs of his hands over smarting eyes. "Now, where's the ticket? Chop, chop, lad. Wait a minute, you're the kid who nearly missed the train this morning, weren't you? The one who decided to take a kip on the bench?"

"And? Not everyone had the pleasure of coming from picture-perfect homes, you know?"

The youth fished a severely-crumpled ticket from the depths of his jean's pockets, and waved it towards the man. He seized the hand irritably, saw the ticket was valid, and shoved the youth's hand back down to his lap. Then his eyes wandered to the lad's commando-green t-shirt and scowled as he read the inscription.

**I Love Having Nothing To Lose**

"Take your shoes off the seat!" the warden snapped angrily, as the youth made to lie back down again. "What kind of messed up kid are you?"

The boy's eyes flashed darkly. "The kind the likes of you only encounter in their nightmares."

A snap of paper and pen announced the warden was about to make some kind of official report. The boy heaved a great sigh of boredom, and began to fish his iPod out of his rucksack. As the warden continued muttering and threatening him, the boy flicked through to his favourite band, _Sum 41_, and soon their lyrics where thudding into his ears:

_Everybody's got their problems (problems).  
Everbody says the same thing to you.  
It's just a matter of how you solve them (solve them),  
And knowing how to change the things you've been through.  
I feel I've come to realize  
How fast life can be compromised.  
Step back to see what's going on.  
I can't believe this happened to you...  
This happened to you..._

The warden's hand rapped against his shoulder again, making the youth flinch and flick the iPod onto 'pause'. "What is it now?"

"Name, laddy," the man growled. "And make it snappy!"

The youth hesitated. He wasn't an idiot: he knew Barrings Estate would have notified the police all ready about his disappearance. He couldn't give his real name, that would be asking for trouble; he'd all ready gone through the humiliation of bleaching his Emo-black hair white, before making it a sickly shade of ginger-brown. He smiled up at the man innocently – he hadn't ditched his skinny fits and turned grunge just to be lobbed into the back of a waiting police car at the next station.

"I'm Rory Tamplin." Damn! That was his girl friend's surname! Oh well, too late now... "Why, is there a problem, sir?"

"Yes," the warden snapped back. "You're attitude."

The youth smiled broadly. "And yours is peachy clean too, mate."

The man turned and slammed out of the carriage. Smiling to himself, Liam let himself lean sideways in the seat, resting his head against the dirty pane of the window. He wondered how long it would take for this wheezing sack of old nuts and bolts to reach Little Weirwold. And when he did, how on earth was he supposed to find that stuck-up of a Tom anyway?

* * *

The hostess, a cheerful girl by the name of Melissa, wasn't in the least bit annoyed to find that Tom's guest for that evening with a townie. "We've got red bull in the kitchen, alcohol in the living room, and George brought his over amps so we can have extra loud music!" the girl literally screamed at Tom over an already booming beat from within the depths of the house. "And if you value your life, for crying out loud _don't_ let anyone open the blinds! I'll be in trouble enough when my folks found out about this party – they'll kill me if we ruin the blackout!"

Tom pushed her forwards into the sitting room, and immediately a sea of faces turned to them...and then looked away. One boy hollered and lobbed a can of _Strongbow _at Tom, who caught the drink with an expert's ease. The next second, the can had opened, and the boy took a deep, generous swig.

"Here." He pushed the drink into Amy's hands. "It's good."

Music shook the house. Amy felt herself relax as she realised that she recognised Hadouken blaring through the amps and sterio combined, and punched Tom's arm lightly. He glanced at her, only to grin as he saw Amy mouthing the words, trying to get him to join in.

"Sorry, love, you're on your own for this one," Tom laughed, shaking his head. "I don't know them."

"You're mad!" Amy accused him, only to jump as Melissa appeared at her arm. The girl flung her arms round the girl's neck, screaming something like, "You know them! At last! _Please_ tell George I didn't make them up! Come on, Amy, dance with me!"

Amy looked at Tom, who rolled his eyes at Melissa's demanded and mimed someone downing a drink. Taking his advice, the girl put the rim of the can to her lip and threw back her head. Laughter rang through the room as she coughed, while the bitter-sweet taste of the alcohol seeped luxuriously down her throat. Greedily, she took another swig. The boy took the can back and pushed Amy toward his friend.

"Don't worry, she don't bite."

"Yeah, like I believed you when you told _me_ that!" Melissa replied tartly, then began to dance. All ready Amy's head was feeling a little light, and her ears hummed happily – how much had she drunk? No, she couldn't be getting tipsy all ready...could she?

Then she just gave up worrying – who cared any more? While Tom settled in to a bantering session with one of his class mates, Amy let herself be dragged away to dance by Tom's terribly energetic ex.

* * *

A knock on the door made Melissa glance up from her seat on George's lap. Growling, she pushed herself out of her seat and away from her friends, stumbling awkwardly towards the front door. Behind her, she could hear her chums scrambling to hide the booze and turn down the music. Straightening her t-shirt, the girl put on her best smile and wrenched open the door. A young man stood there, buckled up beneath a thick hoody.

"You seen Tom anywhere?" he asked her, then grinned. "Say, what's this? A party that he didn't invite me to?"

"And you're a friend of Tom's?" Melissa asked. Then she grinned and grabbed the boy's shoulder. "Which Tom – we have many Tom's in here tonight. I take it you're one of the rugby mates that don't go to our school?"

"Yeah, something like that."

"Oooh!" Melissa glared at her boyfriend as George stuck his head round the doorway. "And what a terribly poosh accent, sonny."

Every bit the performer, Liam graced the attendants of the party with his most devilish of smiles, stooping into a dramatic bow. "I would have been offended if you'd missed it." He turned to Melissa as she shut the door on his back. "So, where's my Tom?"

The girl grinned sluggishly. "Tom Patterson's through there, stuck _in_ the fireplace; Tom Oakley's gone upstairs to hunt for his girlfriend; Tom Dickinson's talking to the porcelain toilet ---"

The youth gave her a cheeky thumbs-up. "Thanks, I've got him."

"Wait!" the girl shouted, as the youth headed towards the staircase before him, face suddenly set. "D'ya want some pizza?"

"Thanks, I ate before I came."

Taking the steps two at a time, Liam clenched his fists determinedly. It had been a fantastic gamble to knock on the door of this farm – he'd heard the blaring music before he'd even rounded the corner, while walking up to the village proper. And if Tom was any inch like Liam, parties would be a great way to relieve the stress of the week from your back. Now he could see that it had paid off spectacularly. He reached the first door on the landing, seized the handle by both hands...then took a deep breath. If Tom was any inch like Liam, the youth guessed he was _not_ going to like what he found when he found the two teenagers.

_Amy's fifteen_, Liam snarled to himself, then paused. _Or is she older?_

The brother scowled, furious that he had been so troubled by his own woes and pains that he had even forgotten how old his sister was. _Never mind: she still my baby sister, and I'll do for that sicko if I find he's even laid one finger on her._

It was now or never. Liam turned the handle, panicked, then slammed his way into the room...

...only to discover that it was completely deserted. He turned and stalked back out again, letting the door bang shut behind him. Downstairs, the music was blaring again – no one would hear a pair of courting teens, that was for sure; neither would they hear Liam when he introduced Tom to his childhood friend: Pain.

* * *

_Thanks so much to all my reviewers so far! BTW, the songs I've listed here are _"The Hell Song" _by _Sum 41 _and _"That Boy That Girl" _by _Hadouken. _Please Read and Enjoy!_


	11. Author Note

Hi guys!

Erm...yeah...if you've read any of my stuff, thanks soooo much! I can't tell you how happy that makes me!!!! XD For the people who've left reviews asking me toupdate soon, I'd just like to apologise and say that I really DO intend to update at some point but I'm had a bit of a rough time the last few months.

My dad had a heartattack in the summer while we were in the middle of a church service, which was awful 'cos I was the one who found him. He then went on to have a quadruple bypass in December 07, and then I had a LOT of revision to do for my Alevel exams which was hard 'cos I had to help Dad. He's a lot better now, but I've failed most of my exams, methinks. Coursework is building up now too, sadly. And...yeah...I had a bit of an issue a couple of weeks back which completely freaked me out. I've had no time to write and all my story ideas have fled. So yeah, I really am sorry. ...(

I WILL UPDATE.

Love, Ginger-B. 22/02/07


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